This One Is For You
by QuinnfullySweet
Summary: It's senior year at William McKinley High School, and the first assignment for Glee Club has been assigned - Double Duets. Can Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez use this assignment to finally win Rachel Berry and Brittany Pierce over?
1. Chapter 1

_For some, the last summer before their senior year of high school means the last opportunity to change things, maybe who they were, or who they wanted to be. For others, it meant no change, because they still didn't even know who they were, or who they wanted to be. Regardless of what it meant for each person, change or no change, for most people, it meant the very last chance for them to do whatever it is they needed to do before their lives changed forever._

_For Santana Lopez, the last summer before her senior year meant spending time with the girl she loved. It meant a last chance to be with Brittany Pierce before their lives probably took separate paths. It meant trying to figure out what was more important: the talks and the looks, or being with the girl who made her happier than anyone in the world._

_For Quinn Fabray, it meant coming to terms with and finally being honest about every part of herself she'd kept buried for nearly her entire life. It meant trying to erase three years of wrong she'd done to Rachel Berry. It meant building a friendship with her so she could one day be able to tell her how she really felt (and show her that they were perfect for each other)._

It was after school on the first day back from the last summer before most of the members of the William McKinley High School glee club's senior year. The campus was nearly deserted apart from the Cheerios practicing on the football field while Sue yelled at them through her bullhorn, and also the 13 members of the glee club in the choir room, waiting for Mr. Schuester.

"Okay," Mr. Schue said as he walked in the door of the classroom, and set his bag down on the chair next to the piano. He walked over to write on the dry erase board. "For the first assignment of this year, you'll have two weeks instead of one. It's a bit more challenging, so I think the extra time with be necessary."

"Uh, Mr. Schue," Finn started, a confused look on his face, "What are 'Double Duets'?"

Brittany absentmindedly replied. "That's two blankets, right?"

Santana smiled at Brittany who was sitting a few seats down from her in the second row. Brittany gave one back.

Mr. Schuester walked away from the dry erase board to stand in the center of the room. Waving the marker, gesturing towards Brittany, he shook his head. "So close again, Brittany. So close. But no." He put the marker down to hold between his hands. "Double duets are when two people sing a song to two other people. The first two people pick a song that applies to the second two people. Each pair has already been picked, but who each pair is singing to will be chosen by fate."

"Fate again, Mr. Schuester?" Rachel laughed.

Santana looked down to where Rachel was sitting in the front row. "Yeah, Berry. Who are you gonna all Suzy Pepper on this time?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and tapped her pen on the open notebook she had laying on her crossed legs. "That's old news, Santana."

Mr. Schuester gave a nervous laugh. "Yes, old news. And I'm not going to be involved in the assignment this time. Now, onto the pairs. Brittany with Rachel."

"Oh no! Berry's going to fall for Britt! Just like she did you! Mr. Schue, you have to change it!" Santana nearly jumped out of her seat as she said it.

Puck looked down to her from where he was sitting in the back row, "Getting a little defensive about your 'best friend', aren't you San?"

"No, Berry's crazy!" She said, turning around to look at him.

Rachel turned her head, though didn't shift in her seat to look directly at Santana. "While I can appreciate your concern given my past actions and would be open to a relationship with a female should the right one come along, I am in no way attracted to Brittany."

"Rachel, did you just say you were gay?" Finn asked from a few seats down from her.

Rachel whipped around in response to his question, and with clear annoyance in her voice, answered. "No, _Finn_. I was merely stating that I wasn't confined to the terms of heterosexuality. My two gay dads raised me in a very open and loving environment. Why would I ever want to cut off the potential to love or be loved because of one's gender?"

Quinn cleared her throat, and putting on her best HBIC tone on, cut in, "Can we just get on with it?"

Rachel turned to look at her, sadness in her eyes as Mr. Schuester continued. "Yes we can. Tina with Mercedes."

"Sweet!" Tina said as she jumped in her seat, high-fiving Mercedes.

Mercedes smiled wide. "This is going to be great!"

Mr. Schuester watched the exchange, smiling. "Glad you girls are happy. Next pairing is Puck with Lauren."

"Awesome, Puckerman, awesome," Lauren said from where she was sitting next to Puck, as she fist-bumped him.

Kurt, sitting a chair away from Rachel to the right, raised his hand slightly, and began, "Mr. Schue, if I may ask, how did you come up with our pairings?"

"Well, I had a little helper," he replied.

Sam, who was sitting next to Mercedes, asked, "So, why did Miss Pillsbury pick these pairs so far?"

"Uh…what makes you think it was Miss Pillsbury?" He awkwardly laughed as he ran his hand over his hair.

"Please, Mr. Schue. You two are so obvious, it's cute," Mercedes said.

Talking quickly, as to continue on with the assignment rather than talk more about this, he responded. "As a guidance counselor, I suppose she thought the pairings were appropriate. Next we have…Santana with…Quinn."

Quinn couldn't hide that she was slightly taken aback. She raised her eyebrows, and then scrunched them. "Me and Santana? Rachel and Brittany? I want to know why, Mr. Schue."

"You'll have to ask Miss Pillsbury, but there's no switching," he once again answered quickly, moving on.

"I wasn't…I just…" Quinn looked at Rachel as she spoke, her voicing fading out, and looked away quickly when she saw Rachel turning around to look back at her.

"We're gonna kill this, Fabray," Santana said, leaning over the empty seat between them.

Quinn glanced sideways towards Santana, took a deep breath, and with her eyebrow raised, said, "Right."

Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together. "Okay, for this next pair, since we have an odd number, Blaine Anderson has volunteered to join us. He'll be with Kurt." Kurt smiled big and sighed, as Blaine made his way into the classroom.

"I like a dramatic entrance. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to sing with Kurt, Mr. Schuester," Blaine said as he took the seat in between Kurt and Rachel.

"Thank you for making our numbers even!" He said as watched Blaine sit down.

Mike, who had been silent as usual, spoke up from the back row where he was next to Tina. "Uh, Mr. Schue, why didn't you just pair Kurt with one of the other guys? Since, I don't sing, I'm not going to be a very good duet partner to whoever you have me with."

"Mike!" Tina said, lightly slapping his arm, and nodding towards Blaine.

Mike looked down to where Blaine sat, speaking to the back of Blaine's head. "Oh, I'm happy you're here, Blaine, I'm just concerned for my partner."

Blaine turned around and waved him off. "Oh, it's fine. I didn't take it that way at all." He gave Mike a nod and smile before turning back around to face forward.

Mr. Schuester finally answered his question. "Mike, it wouldn't have been fair to exclude you. You're partners with Sam."

Santana tilted her head, and smiled. She leaned back in her chair to speak towards Mike and Sam. "There you go, Mike. Sam's ginormous trap will make up for you not being able to sing. Problem solved."

"I thought I told you to stop with the mouth comments, Santana," Sam responded, not having looked at her when she was talking.

She leaned forward this time, around Quinn to look at him, and shrugged. "Like I listen. I'm just keepin' it real."

Mr. Schuester cleared his throat. "That leaves Artie with Finn."

Artie, who was actually wheeled right next to Finn, turned to high-five him, but was ignored. He quickly dropped his hand, and pretended it never happened.

Sam saw, and drew attention to himself by asking, "Who is going to go first to pick who they're singing to?"

Mr. Schuester walked over to the piano where one of the black hats they wore when they performed 'Toxic' sat, and picked up a clipboard. "We'll go in the order I have written down. Oh, and I almost got you all in the right order this first time. Rachel and Brittany, you go first."

Rachel stood up from her seat and set her notebook down on the chair, smoothed out her skirt, turned to wait for Brittany to walk down a step, and the two walked over to the piano.

Reaching the piano, Rachel turned to face Brittany. "Do you want to pull a name or shall I?"

"The duck in the hat might bite. You can go, Rachel," Brittany's eyes moving between Rachel and the hat.

"Very well." She reached in and pulled out the slip of paper. With both hands, she slowly opened it. When she saw the names that were written, her face suddenly became very rigid. She turned to face Mr. Schuester, and through gritted teeth, she said, "Artie….and Finn".

Rachel set the paper down and turned back to her seat, she shot Finn a death glare. Brittany shot a quick look at Artie, who looked away when she made eye contact with him. She then looked towards Santana as she sat down next to her, and Santana smiled like she was up to no good.

Mr. Schuester laughed as he looked up from writing down the pairing. "Alright. Brittany and Rachel sing to Artie and Finn. Fate is being funny today."

Rachel was sitting, with her right leg crossed over her left, her right foot shaking back and forth, showing her irritation. "There is nothing funny about it, Mr. Schuester."

"Well, I'm sorry, Rachel. There is no switching here, either," he said, looking down at his paper.

"I know what song you and Britt can sing, Berry," Santana offered, leaning towards Rachel to speak directly towards her.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Schuester cut in, looking up. "This reminds me, you're able to help each other out. But I'd like it to be a surprise for the pair you're singing to."

Rachel turned around slightly in her seat to address Santana once Mr. Schuester had finished. "I have a few in mind, but I am willing to hear your suggestion later."

Santana leaned forward slightly more, and matter-of-factly replied. "Mine will be what you go with."

Before Rachel could retort, Mr. Schue continued on. "Next up are Mercedes and Tina."

Once the two girls got up from their seats and walked up to the piano, Tina gestured towards the hat for Mercedes to pull a name. Mercedes opened up the paper and beamed. "Sam and Mike."

Tina quickly went back to her seat, put her arms around Mike's neck and kissed him. Mercedes went back to her seat and smiled at Sam as she sat down. He smiled back and winked.

After Mr. Schuester wrote their pairing down, he called out. "Next we have Lauren and Puck."

The duo made their way down the stairs and over to the piano. Lauren got there first, reached in and grabbed a piece of paper from the hat without hesitation. She looked down at the names on the paper and handed it to Puck as she turned around to look in the direction of who they'd be singing to. She smiled, lifting her eyebrows at them. Puck read aloud, "Kurt and Blaine."

He set the paper down and walked back to his seat following Lauren. He spoke to the both of them as he walked up the stairs. "I've had a song I've wanted to sing you two, so right on."

Blaine smiled at him as he sat down. "That's very nice of you; we look forward to hearing it."

Kurt nodded once in agreement and chuckled. "Yes, we're very interested in what you have in store for us."

Mr. Schuester looked up when he was done writing the pairing. "Glad you're happy, Puck. Next up, Quinn and Santana."

Quinn got up and slowly put her notebooks down that she had on her lap, she looked up to see Santana standing next to her looking impatient. "Don't have all day, Fabray."

"I was just…" She said softly as she stood up.

"Doesn't matter. Who's picking? You or me?" Santana asked as she began walking down the step.

Quinn had a nervous look on her face as she followed Santana. Once she got up to the piano to meet her, Quinn turned to send a quick glance at Rachel and then she looked back to Santana. "You can pick."

As Santana reached into the hat to pull out a piece of paper, Quinn subconsciously closed her eyes. Santana had a slip of paper in her hand now, and when she saw what Quinn was doing, she asked, "You all right, Q?"

Quinn obviously hadn't realized what she was doing and quickly snapped her eyes open. "Oh, uh, yeah."

Quinn shifted her head down and her eyes went towards Rachel. Santana was the only one who would be able to see, and she understood right away. She gave Quinn a look of sympathy only she could see, as she remembered a conversation they'd had over the summer.

_Ever since Quinn's breakdown in New York, Santana had tried to make a point to be there for Quinn. Santana cared about people more than she liked to admit, and just like Quinn, being a bitch was protection for her. Figuring out her own feelings about Brittany and attraction to girls in general was making her less angry, but she was still hurting. She could, hell anybody could, tell that Quinn was hurting too. But Santana and her fellow ex-Cheerio had a lot in common, and she was determined to help Quinn and in turn, hopefully help herself. _

_Quinn and Santana were sitting in the middle of the blonde's living room floor, across from each other, picking over the remains of a mini tray of celery and carrots. Quinn's mom was still at work, and they'd just finished 'But I'm A Cheerleader'. It was Santana's choice. She had a plan, but Quinn blew it to smithereens with what she said as she brushed off her hands over the tray. "Santana...I know_ _how-" She brought her hands down in her lap, and finished her sentence quietly. "I know how you feel…about Brittany."_

_Santana had been watching her grow nervous as she spoke, and when Quinn was done, looked away towards the TV watching the menu of the movie. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

"_But it's okay, Santana. I'm trying to tell you that. Everyone will accept you, at least everyone in Glee. We're a family, remember?" The sincerity in Quinn's voice made Santana's insides twist._

"_Stop it, Q," she continued to pretend to stare at the TV, not even really focused on anything._

_Quinn's tone turned harder. "No, don't you shut me out. I'm trying to be your friend."_

_Santana turned her head back to face Quinn. "I don't want your friendship; I want you to let this Brittany thing go."_

_Quinn was not having it. "I won't, whether you want to be friends with me or not. I won't let you go on like you are."_

"_Why not?" Santana asked, shrugging her shoulders. "We don't like each other. We haven't had a real friend moment all year until New York." _

"_That's why we're here right now. Because you were there for me when I needed it, and I'm going to be here when you need it." Santana's insides once again felt like they were in knots as Quinn's tone returned to sympathetic._

_Santana turned on the defensive, crossing her arms, and turning to look anywhere but at Quinn. Santana didn't understand why she could feel tears in her eyes. She hated this. Feeling so much and she hated that she _wanted _to talk to Quinn. The plan was to get Quinn to talk, not the other way around. She couldn't let her in this much. She had too much to lose. "Well, I don't need it. Thanks anyway."_

"_Please talk to me," Quinn spoke softly._

_She turned her head back quickly. "I don't want to talk to you!"_

_Santana felt the tears flow over her eyes. She watched Quinn's eyes follow the tears as the slowly rolled down her cheeks, and after a moment, Quinn sighed. "Do you love her, San?"_

"_Please don't," Santana's voice cracked, but she remained watching Quinn, pleading in her eyes._

_Quinn waited for a moment before continuing on. Santana knew she would keep on. Quinn cared. "Have you talked to her about how you feel? I know you sang that song with Ms. Holiday, but have you talked to her?"_

_Santana looked down to the floor to the right of Quinn. She mumbled, "Yes."_

_Quinn shifted how she was sitting. "How much does Brittany know about how you feel?"_

_She closed her eyes, and answered in barely a whisper, "Everything."_

"_That's good then, right?" Quinn asked, the smallest smile on her face._

_Santana shook her head. "No. It's like we haven't moved at all."_

"_Maybe you need to make a grand gesture. Make her see how serious you are and how much you love her," Quinn shrugged her shoulders as she made the suggestion._

_Santana was silent for a moment. She wiped the last tears that had fallen with both of her hands. She looked straight at Quinn. She knew Quinn could tell what she'd said had made Santana angry. She responded in a way that she knew would get Quinn angry right back. She was going to do what she originally set out to do before Quinn blindsided her, because she couldn't take much more of this. She needed Quinn's focus elsewhere. Her voice was loud and shaking. "A grand gesture? Do you have any idea what that would do to me? I'm barely hanging on as it is." She lowered her voice slightly. "I'll do that the moment you admit you're in love with Rachel Berry."_

_Santana's statement did exactly what she'd meant it to. Quinn looked at Santana, shock written on her face, and loudly demanded, "WHAT?"_

_Santana, aware that she had the upper hand again, responded. "You heard me."_

_Quinn shook her head, and forced a laugh. "Oh, I heard you. You're crazy."_

"_No, I'm not. I have good gaydar. Plus, you kind of scream it anyway," Santana said as she waved her hand towards Quinn._

"_I'm not gay, Santana," Quinn said firmly, trying to not sound defensive._

_Santana kept on. "Q. You know you are."_

"_I am not," she responded, her voice a little higher pitched._

_Santana shrugged. "Fine. But you've got it bad for Berry."_

_Santana saw Quinn's face change when Santana brought Rachel up again. There was anger in Quinn's voice when she responded. "Keep her out of this."_

_Santana pushed a little harder. "Why? Because I'm right? You are gay, Fabray, and you love Berry."_

"_I said, LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" Quinn yelled as she quickly stood up, tears now streaming down her face as she ran towards the bathroom._

"_Why are you being so defensive if I'm wrong?" Santana yelled after her as she stood up and followed her. _

_Two feet away from the bathroom, Quinn slammed the door in Santana's face. "You can leave now, S! Leave with your gaydar and your Brittany/not Brittany feelings! Leave me alone!"_

_Santana leaned against the door with her right shoulder. "I'm not leaving, Q."_

"_Get out of my house, Santana," Quinn called through the door._

"_No," Santana said flatly._

_She heard Quinn slide down the door to sit on the floor. "Fine. But get away from this door." _

_Santana decided to quietly sit down against the wall to the right of the door. She sat for a while thinking about what she was going to do. She wanted to confide in someone, but that meant making herself vulnerable. Quinn was really the only one she could confide in other than Brittany, who she couldn't exactly talk to about this, since she was involved. She had Karofsky too, but that wasn't going to happen._

_And despite having just been the one to make Quinn go lock herself in the bathroom, Santana wanted Quinn to be happy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her happy, and didn't know if she ever truly had. She knew she was right about this, and she knew that if Quinn would just admit it to herself, she could be happier. That's what was happening with her. Kind of. She'd be happier when she was with Britt. _

_Hearing Quinn quietly crying on the other side of the door brought Santana back to her original thought and following through with what she'd planned to do today in the first place. __She turned her head slightly towards the door. __"You're right, you know."_

"_I said go away, Santana."_

_She sighed, and rolled her eyes. "And I'm saying I don't care."_

"_Fine. But don't talk to me."_

"_Right," Santana turned to sit so she was leaning against the wall with her shoulder, facing towards the door. "That's not gonna happen. I'm going to talk and you're going to listen. Then you're going to talk and I'm going to listen."_

"_No, that's not going to happen."_

"_Okay, I'm starting now," Santana leaned her head against the wall, looking up towards the ceiling, thinking of Brittany for a few moments, waiting for Quinn to object. When she didn't, she continued. "I like the way she makes me feel. Not the 'I get butterflies every time she looks in my direction' kind of feel, but how she really makes me feel. It was her who made me finally be honest about it. We'd just- she's the one who said what we were doing was better with feelings."_

"_Feelings do nothing but get you hurt in the end."_

_She moved her head away from the wall, and looked at the door. "I think that sometimes, but B gives me hope that I'm wrong."_

_Santana heard Quinn's head hit up against the wood of the door. "Who are you anymore and why do you even care?"_

_She sighed. "Because we're in the same position, Q." _

"_Not really, no."_

"_Why? I'm gay and in love with Brittany, but can't be with her. You're gay and in love with Berry, but can't be with her," she said it more flippantly than she meant to._

"_Santana. Stop bringing her into this." _

_Santana heard the sadness in her voice, but she just wanted Quinn to say it. To admit it, not just to Santana but to herself. "Tell me why."_

_Quinn didn't say anything but Santana heard her crying again. "Okay. Then tell me this. Why should I be open about who I am when you aren't?"_

_Quinn sniffled before answering. "I- I just can't."_

_Santana softly shook her head, even though Quinn couldn't see. "But I can?" _

"_You're a lot stronger than me, S."_

_She leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes. "No, I'm not. Look at all you've been through," She paused for a moment when she thought about what she sounded like. "Q, you're making me soft."_

_Quinn let out a slight almost forced laugh._

_Santana waited an instance before she asked her next question. "Quinn, how long have you known?"_

_She heard Quinn take a deep breath and breathe out heavily before she answered. "I haven't…I haven't been sure I'm completely…that. But I've loved Rachel ever since the day I first saw her."_

_Santana didn't say anything for a moment. She just smiled to herself at Quinn's admittance. Not because she had been right or because she knew for sure she wasn't alone now, but because this was the first time in a long time Quinn was honest about her feelings at all, not even just about this, and didn't hide them._

"_San?"_

"_I'm here," Santana softly said._

_"I-" Quinn hesitated before continuing. "I've already lost almost everything. If I...were to admit this, I'll lose what little I have left."_

_Santana thought about this answer before. This was part of the plan after all, getting her to talk about all of this. "And if you don't you'll continue to be miserable for the rest of your life."_

_Quinn laughed, and not out of amusement._

_"What?" Santana asked, not understanding._

_"I'll be miserable either way. This way is easier."_

"_Why?" She knew the answer already. "Because this way you'll never know if Rachel loves you back?"_

_Quinn didn't reply, though Santana didn't expect her to, and they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Just when Santana almost couldn't wait any longer, she heard the door unlock and slide open next to her. She watched as Quinn crawled out of the bathroom, her eyes red and her make up smeared. _

_"Rachel could never love me, San." She barely got through the sentence when Santana opened her arms and Quinn collapsed into them sobbing._

_Santana stroked Quinn's hair and rubbed her back as she allowed Quinn to let it all out. She decided it was best not to say anything to Quinn's comment.__ N__ow wasn't the time, and she knew there was a lot more to Quinn's crying right now than just that statement. _

_After a time, Quinn's sobs finally let up. Santana didn't even notice she had been crying too. "Damn you, Q, making me cry." She brushed her hands lightly over her cheeks to rid them of the few tears that had fallen. "Only Britt is allowed to do that."_

_Quinn sat up sniffled, and wiped her face with the back of her hands. "I'm sorry about that."_

_Santana smiled at her. "You're not. It's cool. I'll get you back."_

_"Oh really?" Quinn looked at Santana and smiled back._

_She nodded. "Yeah. Some way."_

_"How did this even happen? I was supposed to be helping you." She was still trying to wipe every trace of tears from her face._

_"You were trying to take the focus off yourself. We're a lot alike in that way, too, I guess. Here, you're kind of failing." Santana reached over and wiped under Quinn's eyes with her thumbs. "All better."_

_She smiled and asked, curiously, "Why do you not have anything to say about it being Rachel?" _

_Santana was sympathetic with her answer. "Because I know how you feel. To have what you want right in front of you and not be able to do a thing about it out of fear." She frowned slightly at Quinn, who she could tell didn't like her answer, so she tried to lighten the mood a bit, and softly bumped into Quinn. "Though I do not understand for the life of me why Berry."_

_"I-" Quinn began, but Santana cut her off by putting her hand out in front of her._

_Santana put her head down, closing her eyes. "No. I don't need to know why." She brought her hand to her chest, and opened her eyes back up to turn to look at Quinn. "Please don't torture me with all the reasons you love the most annoying girl I've ever met."_

_"It's charming." Quinn blushed, and lifted her shoulders slightly as she said it._

_"I'm trying to help you, Q. Don't gag me," Santana reacted with feigned disgust, pushing her hand further against her chest._

_Quinn laughed lightly and softly shook her head. She looked down at her hands in her lap. "We're quite the pair."_

_Santana dropped her hand down. She raised her eyebrows and slowly nodded in agreement. "That we are, Q. That we are."_


	2. Chapter 2

"San. Who'd we get?" Quinn asked, raising her eyebrows, waiting for Santana to read what names were written on the slip of paper.

"What? Oh." Santana looked down at the folded paper in her hands. She opened it slowly, and didn't even have to look for more than a second to see who it was. She looked directly up at Quinn and said, "Rachel and Brittany."

"Fate does have a major sense of humor," Kurt said as he slowly flipped his hair and crossed his right leg over his left.

Santana turned around to look at him for a brief moment before walking back to her seat. "Does, doesn't it? That's all that needs to be said about that." She took a few steps before she looked back to see Quinn still standing at the piano. She turned back around, walked to the piano again, and grabbed Quinn by the wrist. "Earth to Q."

Quinn looked at Santana, and took a deep breath, composing herself. "Sorry," she replied as she let Santana drag her back to her seat. Halfway there, she yanked her arm out of Santana's grip.

"It's not that bad you have to sing to me is it?" Rachel asked, her eyes following Quinn as she walked up a stair next to her.

"No, they'll have fun," Lauren joked. "There are lots of songs about annoying people I'm sure."

Quinn had just made it to her seat, but was still standing in front of it, facing Lauren. "Shut up, Zizes."

"Whoa ho, Fabray," Puck said loudly. "What bit your ass? It was funny."

Quinn turned to look at Puck, giving him a look of annoyance. "No, it wasn't and you can shut up, too, Puck."

"Talk about being defensive over her 'friend'," Finn commented bitterly.

Before Quinn could turn around to respond, Santana did. "Why are you even talking to Q or about Berry? Neither one of their names should be leaving your mouth."

Finn cocked his head, not turning around. "Why can't I say anything to them?"

"Because _Finney_," Santana said, "You've never done right by either of them. You're douchey, and now that they are both finally away from you, they shouldn't have to listen to you speak."

He turned in his seat slightly so he could see her. "How are you any different?"

"Because I never dated them, and you're an ass because you played with their hearts. And while I'm a bitch, that's because that's me, honey. I speak the truth." She leaned back in her chair when she was finished.

"So," Sam started, turning everyone's attention away from Santana and Finn, "No annoying song for Rachel then?"

"No, Brittany is her partner. Santana wouldn't sing her something like that," Artie answered without much tone.

Sam turned his head back from Artie after he was finished to look down at Rachel. "I was asking because I don't think Rachel deserves that. I think she's pretty awesome."

"Thank you, Sam. That's very kind of you," Rachel replied smiling, turning just enough in her seat so she could only see Sam, and not who was sitting beside him.

"Yeah. Rollee was right." Santana shrugged. "I'd never sing that to Britt. Rachel maybe, but Britt saved you," she said the last part glancing at Rachel, who'd turned back around again.

"What a big lady duet fest. Can I watch you rehearse?" Puck asked in all seriousness, a bit too enthusiastic.

"Shut it, Puckerman!" Rachel snapped.

"All right, all right. Enough bickering," Mr. Schuester said, his voice only slightly elevated.

"Mr. Schue," Tina started shyly, "why do you always wait until after we're finished with one of these tussles to say anything?"

"I- I don't know. You kids move too fast for me I guess." He laughed awkwardly. "Next pair. Kurt and Blaine."

Blaine stood up, turned to Kurt, and held his hand out for him to take. Kurt smiled, took it, and stood up. They walked hand-in-hand to the piano and when there, Blaine picked up the hat and held it out for Kurt to pick a name.

"Making me do the dirty work?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, giving him a playful look. He reached in, pulled out a slip of paper, and let go of Blaine's hand to open it. He smiled widely as he read it, and let out a small squeal. "Mercedes and Tina!"

Kurt set the paper down, and turned to walk back to their seats. Blaine set the hat down and put his hand on Kurt's shoulder as he followed him. "Glad you're happy, Kurt."

"We have to start working on this immediately!" Kurt said as he sat down, gripping the sides of his chair. He turned around to Mercedes behind him, and Tina behind her, and gave them his biggest smile, and a small shoulder shrug.

Both girls smiled back as Mr. Schuester continued. "The sooner the better! Next up, Finn and Artie."

Finn stood up as Artie began to wheel himself forward. Finn got there first and picked up the hat and held it out for Artie to pick. Artie gave him a very small smile and reached in, pulling the slip of paper out. "Mr. Schue, there's only one piece of paper in here."

"Well, that's odd." Mr. Schue replied. "At least there's only one more pair after you. Who did you get?"

Artie opened the paper and read it aloud. "Lauren and Puck."

"All right. Interesting." He said as he wrote down the names. "Last up, Sam and Mike. You don't have to come up. Since there's no names for you to pick anyway. You're with Quinn and Santana."

Sam looked down to Quinn and Santana and smiled, but didn't say anything as Finn and Artie went back to their seats.

"Just so we clear here," Lauren said in the boy's direction, "Pizes is no longer an item. But we are still badasses."

"Yeah," Puck nodded. "So make it good."

Artie, slight confidence in his voice, responded. "I think I've got a pretty good idea for a number."

"Great, man. I wouldn't know where to start." Finn laughed.

"That's not a surprise, Finn. You're actually not that smart," Brittany said flatly from behind him. She sat in her normal deadpan as the laughter began. Whether it was at the comment or who it came from was undecided. Santana looked beside her at Brittany with her special smile again, this time catching Brittany's eyes. She smiled back bashfully.

The only one who was not laughing was Finn. "What the hell you guys? Is it pick on Finn day or something?"

Santana looked down to him and smiled. "Oh that could be any day Finnocence."

"Finn's right. Stop being rude to each other," Mr. Schue said, barely making an effort.

"That's how we function though, Mr. Schue," Mike said in a light tone.

Mr. Schuester walked away from the piano to stand in the center of the room again. "Yeah, maybe, Mike, but we should all try and be a little nicer to each other this year."

"You all should take after me," Santana offered. "I'm doing a splendid job."

Lauren laughed. "Really, Santana? You're like the biggest bitch of them all."

Santana turned around in her seat to face her, putting her arm on the back of the chair. "Have you not been paying attention at all, _Lauren_? I've actually been quite enjoyable today."

"You definitely were last night," Brittany said rather nonchalantly in response.

Santana froze. She was already facing Brittany from when she turned to look at Lauren. She quickly tried to cover up what Brittany had just said by acting like it was no big deal. "When we had our movie marathon. I'm good at quoting."

"Yeah," she said as if it was obvious. "You're good at that, but you're also good at-"

Santana cut her off, and forced a smile. "Making duck cookies with the yellow icing? I know."

Brittany slightly rolled her eyes. "No, you remember? What we do after the sweet-"

"After Sweet Valley High," she jumped in again, pushing the fake smile further. "We made the duck cookies."

Brittany smiled sweetly. "They were really good, weren't they?"

"Excellent. Very enjoyable," Santana said, relieved, relaxing back into her chair to face the front again.

The squabble was thankfully quiet since the pair was sitting close to each other, and only Quinn actually caught the whole conversation. Kurt, however, had heard the first comment, and knowing it could probably go nowhere good, loudly started going on about where he and Blaine could start looking for song choices.

In the middle of one of Kurt's sentences about a trip to the mall, Mr. Schuester cut in. "I'm going to stop you right there, Kurt. I just have a few things I want to say, and then you can talk about that sale."

Kurt raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly as Mr. Schuester continued to talk. "Okay, before you leave, I want you to take a few minutes with your partner. I think that because it's the beginning of the year and we're all still a little lazy from the summer, you might put the planning, or the rehearsing off. So at least decide amongst yourselves when you'll be working on your duets. Remember the sooner the better. I want this year's assignments to be the best yet. This is the last year for some of our members, and we want it to be a good one! Let's start this year off right! Go, on, get to planning, and then you can go."

As Mr. Schuester turned around to go back to the piano to gather his things together, Rachel got up to go sit next to Brittany, since she was the only one not near enough to her partner. Puck stood up, grabbed his backpack, and started walking down the stairs, followed by Lauren, carrying her books. "See ya suckers Me and Lauren are goin' to my place. Ya'll have fun."

"We don't need to know that, Puck," Mercedes said, shaking her head after him.

Lauren stopped walking and turned around. "Did you all not hear what I said?" she asked, attitude in her voice. "We're not together."

Kurt forced a laugh, looking up at her from his conversation with Blaine. "That doesn't mean anything to Puck."

"Hey, hey!" Puck said defensively, as he turned back to face the rest of the class.

"Noah, you aren't really known for your ability to remain monogamous," Rachel offered, breaking away from her conversation with Brittany momentarily.

Before anyone could say anything back, Quinn, rolled her eyes, and in an annoyed tone, replied, "Can we just end this now? He is not sleeping with Lauren, he's with someone else. Let them leave."

"That's right. Listen to my baby mama." Puck gave her a small smile before her turned to walk out the door, Lauren by his side.

She rolled her eyes, but returned the smile, though only slightly as he was already out the door, as she stood up. She smoothed the back of her skirt with her left hand as she held her books with her right, and turned to Santana. "Ready to go?"

Santana looked up at her. "Let me say bye to Britt. I'll meet you out by the car."

"All right," she said as she walked down a step. "Don't take too long." She didn't look back as she walked towards the door. Rachel watched her the whole way, sadness written all over her face.

"Berry, can you hurry up with Britt so I can leave?" Santana asked, pulling Rachel's attention back to the conversation.

Rachel turned to look at Santana. "Of course. We were finished anyway."

Brittany watched Rachel as she stood up. "So we're going to Breadstix tonight? So I can practice rolling the meatball with my nose."

"Oh hell no! Berry!" Santana quickly said, nearly jumping out of her seat again as Rachel walked in front of her to go back to her seat. "I said you were trying to get with Britt!"

"And I told you I wasn't attracted to Brittany, Santana." Rachel calmly replied as she went down the stair, sat down, and began writing something down in her notebook.

Kurt shook his head, let out a small laugh, and tsk tsk'ed as he stood up to leave. "Holding in those feelings is making you crazy."

"What did you say to me, Hummel?" Santana asked, quickly turning her attention from Rachel to Kurt.

Kurt waved her off, as he and Blaine began walking towards the door, Finn quickly getting up to follow them. "Oh, nothing. Nothing."

Brittany, happy as always, jumped up from her seat and held her pinky out for Santana to take, completely wiping the slightly annoyed look on Santana's face when she did. "Come on, San. Quinn's waiting."

Santana smiled at her, took her pinky, and stood. "Okay, B."

As the two girls walked to leave, Rachel stood up, her books in her hands and turned around to Mercedes, Sam, Tina, and Mike. "Do you three mind if I talked to Sam for a minute?"

"Sure, Rae," Mercedes said as she smiled at her, and then Sam as she stood up.

Tina and Mike got up and walked towards Artie, who had wheeled himself to the piano where he was talking to Mr. Schuester, as Mercedes began walking towards the door. Mike stood behind Artie for a moment before he started pushing him, following Mr. Schuester as the two continued to talk and walked out the door.

The only ones left in the classroom now were Rachel and Sam. Rachel watched for a moment as Sam picked up his backpack from the floor. "I was wondering if maybe you and Mike would be willing to meet Brittany and me at Breadstix tonight to talk about your duet to Quinn and Santana."

"Sure, that shouldn't be a problem," he said smiling up at her.

She smiled widely back. "Fantastic. I really hope that you'll seriously consider the song."

"We both will. I'll tell Mike about it. What time did you want to go?" he asked her as he stood up.

She watched him as he took a step down the stair to stand in front of her. "Does 7 work for you?"

"Should be fine," he said as he turned to face her.

"Wonderful." She hesitated for a moment. "I've had a song selection in mind for some time now that's very fitting to both Quinn and Santana. It's really a perfect opportunity because your voice fits the song so well."

He let out a small laugh. "If you keep this up, there's going to be no reason to have dinner."

"Of course." She shook her head, and bashfully smiled back. "It's just important to me Quinn feel her worth."

"I'm happy to help. I want that, too," he replied.

After Rachel didn't say anything thing for a moment, he turned to walk out. She took a step in front of him so he couldn't move forward without going a bit around her. "I care about her a lot."

He gave her a slightly confused look. "So do I."

She looked down at the ground. "Yes, yes, I know. It's just that the last time someone sang a song for her was when you sang her 'Baby'." She looked back up at him. "She deserves to be sung to again. Every day for that matter. I- I would love to be able to sing to her, but I can't."

Sam nodded slowly. "Are you trying to say something you're not saying, Rachel?"

"What?" Rachel shook her head. "No. I'll- I'll see you tonight. 7 p.m. sharp. Thank you!" With that, she turned and quickly walked out of the classroom.

Mercedes walked through the door right as Rachel walked out. She called after her. "Bye Rae."

Mercedes turned back to see Sam walking towards her. "Are you ready?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she replied, nudging her arm against his, as he walked up next to her and they began walking down the hall towards the exit of the school.

They walked in silence for a minute or so before Mercedes continued. "So, what's up with Rachel?"

He threw his backpack over his shoulder. "Me and Mike are meeting her and Brittany tonight at Breadstix."

She smiled only slightly. "Oh. That's cool."

They got to the door to leave the school, and Sam opened it for her. "She has a song she wants us to sing to Quinn and Santana."

"What? Why?" She asked surprised as she walked through the open door.

He walked through himself, putting his hands in his pockets after letting the door go, and answered, "Uh, I'm not sure. She was acting kind of…weird. So I was gonna ask her if she wanted to meet early, so I can see. I mean if that's okay. With you?"

"Definitely." She turned to him and smiled, bumping her elbow against his arm. "You're really sweet, Sam."

He shrugged. "I just care."

"You're just a really great guy. Have I told you that before?" She looked up at him as she put her arm around his.

"You may have mentioned it." He replied, looking down and smiling at their linked arms. "You're a great girl."

"Stop it." She laughed as they got closer to where Mike and Tina were waiting for them at Mike's car.

Tina was leaning against the passenger side door talking to Mike. She turned her head to speak to Sam and Mercedes as they got closer. "Mike and I wanted to know if you guys wanted to come over to my house to watch a movie, instead of us just taking you home."

Mercedes smiled at Sam, who nodded and responded, "Yeah, we're in."

"Okay, then you and Mike can just work on your duets there, if you want." Tina said smiling, opening up her car door.

Mike replied as he walked around to get to the driver's side. "You know we'd never get any work done."

Mercedes chuckled. "You got that right."

Tina dramatically sighed. "True. Mercedes and I are so distracting."

Sam opened the back door to let Mercedes get in. "You two and Avatar….which is the movie we will be watching."

Mercedes paused halfway into the car. "Sam. Not. Again."

* * *

><p>Rachel was sitting in the middle of the floor of her bedroom gluing rhinestones to a pair of her leg warmers when her phone buzzed. She put down her hot glue gun, and pick up her phone.<p>

**1 New Message from:**

**Sam Evans**

Rachel was always ready for disappointment whether she showed it or not. On the off chance someone actually made plans with her, they typically ended up cancelling in the end. That's how it usually went, so she prepared herself for a message telling her he couldn't make dinner or they'd have to reschedule. But when she opened the message, what she read surprised her.

**Hey rachel! I wanted to know if you wanted to meet me at breadstix early?**

She couldn't imagine why he wanted to meet her before the time she'd already scheduled. Surely three hours between then and closing would be enough?

**Certainly, Sam! :) Will it be the four of us, or just you and me? I'll have to let Brittany know.**

If it's the four of us, it has to have something to do with the time, but if it's just the two of us, what ever could he want that for?

**Just us**

Oh. Oh dear. I can't even keep up with the thoughts running through my head right now. I need to write them down…

**May I ask the purpose in this early meeting?**

Maybe he just wants to be a gentleman. Maybe see how I'm doing with my break up with Finn. That, that has to be it, right?

**I wanna talk to you about some stuff**

Oh no. Sam Evans. Please don't. Please don't let this be what I think it is.

**I would ask about what, but I'm not sure I want the answer. What time did you want to meet?**

What am I going to do with this situation? Aren't my feelings on enough of an emotional rollercoaster as it is?

**Dont worry. How bout 630?**

Only because it's Sam and he has no reason to lie to me, will I try to calm my worries.

**See you at Breadstix! 6:30 p.m. on the dot! :)**

This gives me considerably less time, considering its 4:37p.m. already. You wouldn't think 30 minutes would make much difference, but for an extremely organized and scheduled to-the-minute person like myself-

**See ya then**

-30 minutes makes a huge difference.

Rachel thought to herself for a moment and looked over towards her ferrets. "Looks like no dance lessons for Valerie Bertinelli and Mrs. Snuggleton today!"

* * *

><p>It was 6:28p.m. as Rachel walked in the door of Breadstix, pulling off her dark tan overcoat. She'd decided when getting ready for tonight that her normal short skirt and some type of animal sweater would never do. Instead she opted for a purple turtleneck with tiny white bows stitched everywhere and a pair of high waist white pants. The animal sweater would have been okay, but she needed every possible inch of her skin covered as to distract Sam from any idea that she was interested in him.<p>

It's all she thought about the entire time she was getting ready. Maybe it was egotistical of her to think Sam would like her, but why else would he want to have dinner with her? Just her? She'd just broken up with Finn. The Sam she knew wouldn't take advantage of her vulnerability, right? No, Sam was the sweetest guy she'd ever met. Rachel would feel lucky to have a guy like Sam.

What was she saying? She didn't want Sam. At least not like that. There was only one person she wanted like that, and it was not Sam.

"Rachel?"

Rachel turned to see Sam walking up to her from the direction of the restaurant rather than the door.

"Sam! How are you?" She asked following him to where he had been sitting.

He continued walking, and glanced over to her. "Fine. How about you?"

"I'm very well, thank you. Have you been here long?" She smiled at him.

As he sat down, he replied, "A few minutes. I wanted to make sure to get here first so you didn't think I wasn't gonna show."

Rachel now seated in the booth opposite, looked him in the eyes, and said, "That's possibly the most considerate act someone has ever done for me."

"It's really no problem," he said, taking a sip from his drink, and nodding towards it. "I would've ordered you something but didn't know what you'd like."

Rachel waved him off, "Please. It's fine."

"What do you normally get here? The vegan meatballs, right?" he said as he opened up his menu.

Without looking up from her menu, Rachel nodded her head. "Yes! Always."

"Umm…how can they be meat-balls and vegan?" He put a bit more emphasis on the 'meat'.

Rachel laughed. "You probably wouldn't be very interested in them if I told you what they were made out of. But I assure you there is no meat or dairy."

"Talking about our vegan meatballs?" The waitress who'd just walked up to their table asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Sam responded, smiling. "I believe that's what Rachel would like, and I would like the same. But we have two more people coming to meet us. Can you not put it in until you get their orders, too?"

"Sure thing, sweetie," the waitress said as she winked at him before she turned to Rachel. "What'll you be having to drink?"

"A peach iced tea, please. Thank you," she replied.

"I'll be right back out with it," she said as she took both of their menus.

As the waitress walked away, Sam sat as he watched Rachel lean forward on the table, her hands folded together. Rachel composed herself and with all seriousness, began the speech to Sam she'd prepared before she came.

"I'd like to start off by saying that you are a very lovely, sweet, and extremely talented guy, and anyone would be lucky to be able to walk down the halls of McKinley with you on her arm. You have probably been the kindest to me of every guy I've ever dated, and we aren't even dating! You even stuck up for me in class today, and you really had no reason to. You wouldn't get anything out of it. Goodness knows no one else sticks up for me...well, one other person, but anyway, it usually causes more harm than good. From what I gather from your behavior both in class and in asking me to dinner early today, I've come to the conclusion that you are attracted to me. If situations were different, I would be lucky to be the girl who walked down the halls with you, but I can't be. My heart is somewhere else, and I'm so sorry."

Sam sat in silence for a moment, trying to take in everything Rachel had just said. "So, you think I like you?"

Rachel nodded. "That's correct. The only other reason you'd ask me out to dinner just the two of us I could think of was to check and see if I was okay after my break up with Finn. But I don't think I'm that bad off, so you would have no reason to do that either."

As the waitress set down Rachel's drink and she thanked her, Sam lightly chuckled.

"Is something funny?" Rachel looked at him in all seriousness.

Sam shook his head. "I don't like you, Rachel. Or at least not how you're thinking."

Rachel was holding her drink midway in the air, but set it back down before she spoke. "I- I am so embarrassed."

"Don't be." He smiled at her. "It makes sense, what you said…even if you talked a lot and really fast so I probably missed half of it."

Rachel turned her head away slightly. "I talk a lot. I know that."

"Hey," he said as he slid his hand on the table closer to her and tapped it to get her attention. "I didn't mean it like that. I think it's cool you have a lot to say."

Rachel looked at his fingers tapping on the table and forced a small laugh. "You're the only one." When she realized what she had said, and how untrue it was, that Sam _wasn't_ the only one who liked that she talked a lot, it made her sad. She crossed her arms on the table, leaned forward, and looked up at him. "Sam, can I ask you something?"

Sam mirrored Rachel on the other side of the table. "Shoot."

She thought for a moment before continuing. "What- what was it like, dating Quinn?"

He gave Rachel an odd look. "Why do you ask?"

"Right now, Quinn and I- we're in a bit of a rough patch. Actually it's a lot more than a bit. We're not talking, or at least I don't think we are. I mean, we haven't spoken in a week. We spent so much time over the summer together, and now-"she paused, realizing she was rambling. "I wanted to see if something like that had ever happened to you."

He looked at her for a moment before answering. "Did something happen to make her not wanna talk to you?"

"I don't really know if I should say." She could hear the own sadness in her voice.

He nodded in understanding. "It's okay. Umm, well, you know how Quinn works. She pushes people away if they get too close."

"I know she does." She took a deep breath and sighed. "But I don't even think this is what she's doing."

"What do you mean?" He asked, her, picking his glass up and taking a sip of his drink.

She watched him as he set his glass back down. "It's just that, this summer, we've become so close. We've talked so much, about everything. Subjects that I'm sure she didn't like talking about, but she always did. So if she didn't over all of that, I don't think she's pushing me away now."

"Okay." It was clear he did not get what she was talking about. "I'm not trying to be nosy, but I can't help if you don't give me more than that."

He sincerely looked apologetic. Rachel could tell she was confusing him. She played with the straw in her drink as she thought for a moment. "Let's say, hypothetically speaking, something happened at a party that made the situation between the two of you rather awkward to where she didn't speak to you, and going along with my question from before, when did she start speaking to you again?"

"All right, uh, I can work with that. But first maybe I can tell you why I asked you here early, and then we can talk more." He smiled at her.

She looked up from the straw in between her fingers. "Oh my goodness. Of course! I got caught up in the moment! Please, do tell me."

Sam laughed. "You remember when you and Quinn went to Harry Potter with me and Mercedes over the summer?"

"Certainly. How could I forget?" She asked him, smiling as she lifted her glass to take a drink.

"Something you said has always stuck with me." He stopped to think. "Not what you said, because I don't remember what that was, and I don't know why. But today, when I talked to you, it makes more sense, whatever you said then."

She looked at him curiously. "What makes sense?"

"This is really weird for me, and I shouldn't even ask," he said somewhat uncomfortably.

Rachel reassured him. "Sam. It's perfectly fine. Go ahead."

Sam looked right at her, waited for a few seconds, and then quickly blurted out, "Do you like Quinn?"

"Oh." She was certainly not expecting that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: One of my friends reminds me of Bike, so this one is for her. :)**

* * *

><p><em>Brittany sat stretching in the middle of the gym floor, having just finished another day of dance camp. Mike had asked her to help him teach for two weeks during the summer, and she was more than happy to help. There was only one thing…well, person, she loved more than dancing.<em>

_That's who she was thinking of now._

_Santana. _

_No matter what she thought about, it always went back to Santana. She thought about her during breakfast, when she took Lord Tubbington on walks, when she made crafts in the afternoon with her little sister, during family game nights on Wednesdays. That's who she thought about in school all the time. Santana was much more interesting than whatever the teachers had to say._

_No matter where she was, everything reminded her of Santana. Like two of the girls in one of the classes today looked like her and San did when they were that age. The mini Santana watched as the mini Brittany danced, and the mini Brittany helped the mini Santana with the steps when she got lost. When the mini Brittany messed up her dancing, and another little girl laughed, the mini Santana stomped over and threatened to make the girl eat her teeth. Brittany made the mini Santana sit in the corner (even though she really didn't want to), and made the little girl who laughed apologize to the mini Brittany._

_Santana always stood up for Brittany. Brittany didn't like to talk, and she didn't like fighting, so even if people said things that were mean to her, she never did anything about it. Santana took care of her. Santana was always checking on Brittany to make sure she was okay, to see how her day was. Santana would send Brittany texts to tell her something funny she thought of or saw, sometimes even when they were in the same room together. Brittany would laugh and then look up to find Santana already smiling at her. As if the only reason she sent what she did was to make Brittany smile._

_Santana always knew how to make Brittany smile. She knew Brittany better than anyone. She knew why Brittany didn't talk a lot. She took Brittany seriously, something she didn't think anyone else did. She knew what Brittany liked, and she knew what she didn't like. Brittany knew Santana would do anything to make her happy. And that's why what they were going through right now hurt Brittany so much._

_Seeing Santana hurt was the worst thing in the world. She felt like her heart would drop whenever Santana was upset, and she felt like her insides would fall to a million pieces when she saw Santana cry. She loved Santana more than anything, and whatever Santana felt, Brittany somehow felt too._

_Santana was hurting so much right now, and that meant Brittany did too. Brittany just wanted it all to stop. She just wanted to be with Santana. She knew they'd be so happy together. She wished things were different so they could be. _

"_Care for some company?"_

_Brittany looked up to see Mike walking towards her. She smiled up at him. "You bet!"_

_Mike sat down Indian style in front of her about five feet away. "I really appreciate you helping me with this dance camp, Britt."_

"_You tell me that every day," Brittany giggled._

"_I know." He shrugged. "I just want to make sure you know it."_

_Brittany folded her legs in to mirror the way Mike was sitting. "I do." _

"_Good." He thought for a moment. "So how are you and Santana?"_

_Brittany's face fell a bit. "We're fine."_

"_Are you sure? If you need to talk some more, you know I'll always listen," he offered. "What's on your mind, Britt?"_

"_Santana," she answered._

"_Why did I ask?" Mike smiled at her._

"_Because you can't read minds?" she asked flatly._

"_You're right. I can't. It'd be awesome if I could though!" he chuckled. "What about Santana?"_

_She looked down to the gym floor. "I don't know what to do."_

"_Just give her time. This is something she needs to do on her own," he said, leaning back on his hands. "You know that."_

"_Yeah, and I'm letting her. But it's hard." Brittany sighed as she picked her head up, and twisted to the left to stretch her back. "I want to hold her hand when we're at the movies. I want to kiss her forehead when we're standing around waiting for ice cream with gummy bears. I want to call her the things she won't let me call her outside our rooms." She twisted to the right to stretch her back further. "I want to show everybody how happy she makes me."_

_Mike watched her as she turned back and forth again. "Why don't you show her how happy she makes you?"_

"_How? She doesn't like to talk about feelings a lot, and she usually decides what we're doing," she answered as she put her hands up over her head to straighten her spine._

"_Well, ask her to come over and have a date at your house," he suggested. "Your mom and dad could go out to dinner and take your sister so it'd be just the two of you. You could order pizza or Tina and I could come over and help you cook, then you could watch a movie."_

_Brittany smiled widely at him as she dropped her hands. "She likes Breadstix. They have takeout, right?"_

"_Yep!" He nodded. "They do! Anything I can help you with, just let me know, okay?"_

"_I will for sure," she responded. "You know what we should play?"_

_Mike smiled at her. "10 Things I Love About…?"_

"_Yes!" she exclaimed, excited._

"_Sure, Britt," he said as he sat up straighter, off his hands. "You go first or I go first?"_

"_You go!" Brittany replied, gesturing in at him._

"_Okay!" he laughed, brushing his hands together to get the dust from the gym floor off. "One thing I love about Tina is that she doesn't dress like everybody else, and it doesn't bother her at all."_

_She stretched her legs out straight in front of her, and leaned back on her hands. "One thing I love about Santana is that she likes the outside crunchy part of the Oreo, and I like the middle."_

"_Two things I love about Tina are that she doesn't dress like anybody else and it doesn't bother her and she knows a lot about almost every religion in the world," he responded, a little quicker._

_Brittany turned her head from side to side stretching her neck. "Two things I love about Santana are that she likes the outside crunchy part of the Oreo, and I like the inside, and she likes to wear my t-shirts when she sleeps over at my house."_

"_Three things I love about Tina are that she doesn't dress like anybody else, and she doesn't care, she knows about nearly every religion in the world, and her favorite movies are zombie movies." He smiled more at the last part._

"_Three things I love about Santana are that she likes the crunchy part of the Oreo, and I like the middle, she likes to wear my t-shirts when she sleeps over at my house, and when Lord Tubbington refuses to move on his walks, she always carries him home," she replied quickly._

"_Okay. Four things I love about Tina are that she doesn't dress like everybody else and doesn't care what they think, knows about most of the religions of the world, her favorite movies are zombie movies, and that she tried to teach me how to play the piano, even though I'm terrible at it," Mike said very quickly, nearly getting jumbled at the end._

"_I always win, Mike," Brittany laughed. "Four things I love about Santana are that she likes the crunchy part of the Oreo, and I like the middle, she likes to wear my t-shirts when she sleeps over, she carries Lord Tubbington home when he gets too tired to walk, and how she always plays with my hair."_

_Mike laughed as well. "You win, Brittany. I lost the order of mine. Just finish it out."_

_Brittany smiled again. "I told you. The rest of the ten things about Santana I love are that she puts my rainbow goldfish in different color piles, that she only likes the twisty kind of spaghetti noodles, that she takes me to the zoo once a month, that she lets me paint her toes in all different colors, that she sings to me when we're driving, and that she always sends me good morning texts, even if she stayed over."_

"_She's really sweet to you, Britt," Mike said as he returned her smile. "This was fun. One time, I will win!"_

"_I don't think you will," she replied as she pulled her legs in to start to stand to leave._

"_Okay, maybe not," he said laughing as he watched her. "Do you feel better?"_

"_Yeah, I do, she said nodding, as she stood up. "You're a good friend to me. What would I do without you?"_

"_Dance alone?" he answered._

"_What does dancing have to do with being my friend?" She walked over and held her hand out for him to take._

_He shook his head, laughing, as he took her hand and stood up. "Nothing, Britt. It has nothing to do with it at all."_

"_Hey, Mike?" Brittany asked as they walked back to where their things were. "Why are goldfish in rainbow colors if they're gold?"_

_Mike turned his head to look at her as they continued to walk. "You know, Britt, that's a great question for Santana."_

* * *

><p>Rachel's eyes were closed as she slowly shook her head side to side. "Oh. Sam. I-" She hesitated before opening them, looking around at the busying restaurant around her, before finally settling her eyes back on Sam. "I'm not sure I- your question has me so confused. No. I mean, the question didn't confuse me. It's more that you asked it….you," she nodded towards him. "Sam Evans."<p>

"Sam I am," he laughed lightly.

"Yes," she said as she forced a small laugh. "But what would make you ask me something like that? That's a very interesting question. I'd- I'd like to hear your reasoning behind it." She paused for a moment. "This is Quinn Fabray we're talking about."

Sam gave her a confused look. "So?"

"_So?_" Rachel mirrored his look. "I _cannot_ like Quinn Fabray, Sam."

He waited for a few moments before responding. "I'm sorry. I- I just wanted to ask in case you wanted somebody to talk to about it. It just seemed like you did. I guess I was wrong. We can forget I asked." He shrugged and looked down at his glass.

Rachel studied the somewhat uncomfortable look now on his face. The same one he wore when he asked her his first question just moments ago. She cleared her throat to get him to look up at her. "No, that's not what I meant… When I said I _couldn't_ like her, I didn't mean that I _didn't_ like her." She diverted her eyes to the left for a moment and back at him. "This must have been incredibly hard for you to do, knowing you could've been incorrect in your thinking…also slightly awkward, considering your history with Quinn."

He gave her a small smile, relieved. "It's not."

"Well then, if you say so," she said as she straightened in her seat, folding her arms on the table, looking directly at him. "Firstly, I'd like to say thank you. We aren't even that close and yet you took the time to come talk to me about this- this subject, which could have put you in an incredibly embarrassing position, had you been wrong. Not only that, but any other person would probably have taken the idea and run with it, spreading it around the school, further perpetuating my already less than stellar reputation." She took a small breath, pausing momentarily. "Anyway, the entire gesture was very sweet, Sam, so again, thank you."

"There's really nothing to thank me for," he shrugged. "You need a friend and I'm glad to be it. And you know I hate rumors, so you can be sure anything you say to me won't go any further."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for that as well. The second thing I'd like to say to you is that I'm honestly very surprised by this." She laughed lightly to herself, shaking her head. "I mean, that's obvious. But I'm referring to how you knew. I know I am not the best at hiding my feelings when it comes to who I'm attracted to, but I thought I was more than careful this time. I- I had to be. So I can't imagine what would've put this sort of idea in your head. What made you realize that I- that I liked her? Was it something I said? Something I did? Maybe it was a combination of both?"

"A little bit of both," he said slowly, clearly trying to think through her questions.

She jumped back in before he could continue. "You mentioned something I said when we went to Harry Potter, as well as how I acted today? Maybe start there?"

"Right," he nodded. "And I said I didn't remember what you said."

"Do you remember anything? What it had to do with?" she asked, unable to conceal the anxiousness in her voice.

Sam reached up to run his fingers through his hair as he thought. "Uh, I thought it was kind of weird you went to go see the movie when you'd never seen any of the others or read the books or anything."

"Well, Sam. That's easy!" she said happily as she picked up her glass. "The movie was irrelevant to me. Anything that involved Quinn, I would most certainly not have hesitated-"

"That's it!" he quietly shouted cutting her off, snapping his fingers at her.

She jumped slightly at his reaction, carefully setting her glass back down. "What? What's it?"

"You went for Quinn!" he replied, as if it was obvious. "Why would you go see the last movie of the series when you hadn't seen the rest of for _just a friend_? I wouldn't. But I'd go for someone I liked."

"I suppose that's not very friend-like behavior, is it?" She gave him a small, innocent, smile. "We'll get back to that in a moment. Let's talk about you and Mercedes. That's….odd to me." She shook her head lightly. "Don't get me wrong. It's not a bad thing, just rather unexpected more than anything. I'm happy for you both. I never did tell you that."

"Always too distracted by Quinn?" he asked, jokingly.

"Hmm…" She laughed. "I guess I was!"

He smiled at her, chuckling lightly, picking up his glass to take a drink. "But thanks. It wasn't expected, but I guess we have you to blame." He tilted his head towards her as he took a drink.

"Me?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded as he set his drink back down. "Yeah, you were the one who had us all go to prom together."

"Oh! Yes, yes! Of course! And then I invited Jesse, and-" she stopped abruptly as an annoyed look came over her face.

Sam waited for her to continue for a moment, but when she didn't asked, "Did something happen with Jesse?"

"Well, I _suppose_ you could say that." She took a breath, as she thought for a moment. "After what happened at the party with Finn, I needed someone to talk to, you know. I couldn't very well tell my dads what Finn had said, and I couldn't talk to Quinn…for that reason I mentioned earlier. There really was no one else. Jesse is really me in male form, so I thought he would be most able to understand how dramatic it all was. But in predictable Jesse St. James form, he decided it would be a good idea to use my vulnerability to make his move. Let me tell you something," she said, leaning forward. "I took all the anger I had towards Finn out on him, and he is now taking a mini vacation with his parents in Bali. He will swear to you it's because he needed to, and I quote, 'take a break from the unattractive drama of Rachel Berry', but I'm quite positive it's because I may have threatened his vocal cords." She sighed, rolling her eyes, leaning back again. "And they say I'm the diva."

Sam slowly nodded his head. "Well, there will be no move making here. I like my vocal cords where they are."

"Oh, Sam, I would never!" she reassured him. "I'm very aware that you are far more respectful that Jesse when it comes to my feelings, and had I known then what I know, about what a good friend you are, I'm sure I would've come to you."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you sooner." There was a hint of regret in his voice.

"Please, don't apologize! I'm very grateful you are here now!" She smiled genuinely at him. "Anyway, why would you have reason to even come talk to me? Finn and I had broken up so many times before, no one else ever bothered to ask how I was doing. I've been caught in the Finn bubble for a long time. Now that I'm free, I can finally see how very…wrong it all was."

"But you're sure you're okay?" he asked, still concerned.

"Yes, Sam! I promise you, I am fine. I mean, the words hurt, and I replay them sometimes in my head. Both what was said to me, and to Quinn, about Quinn…let's not talk about that, okay?" She forced a small smile and continued. "If you want to know the truth, I think it's been a long time since I loved Finn, _really_ loved him. I'm sure part of me always will, because he was my first love, and nothing will change that, but I will never go back to him."

"When did you realize there was no more Finchel?" he asked trying to sound serious, while also trying to hide his smile.

Rachel nearly choked on her peach iced tea. "Did you just say that to me?"

"I think I did." He waited a moment as he pretended to think. "Unless somebody took Polyjuice Potion and I'm actually someone else pretending to be me, but I'm not. I'm me. And it would have been me who said it anyway."

"Now I see why you don't mind that I ramble," she laughed. "And don't think I don't know what you're talking about now! She made me watch every movie! And read the books!"

He chuckled. "I'll have to high five her next time I see her."

Rachel's face fell slightly, and her smile faltered.

"Aw, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he said, frowning.

"No, no, you didn't. It was just one of many everyday reminders that she isn't speaking to me. It's not your fault. I could look at the straw for example, and think of her." She began to play with the straw in her glass. "She likes two straws in her drink, did you know that?"

"I did," he replied.

"Of course you do," she said, as she smiled ever so slightly, not looking up from the now swirling liquid in her glass. "That's why it's so ideal for you to sing this song to her. Not only does your voice fit it perfectly, but you will really put your all behind it because you care about her. You loved her, or maybe you still do. She deserves this."

"She does. And a part of me will always love her," he said, giving her a small smile back.

She looked up from her glass. "Because she's your first love?"

He nodded. "She is."

Rachel thought for a moment. "Why does this not bother you?"

"Bother me?" he asked, somewhat confused.

"Talking about this, about me liking her, all of it," she shrugged, swirling the straw in her glass again.

"Me and Quinn had our time. I wasn't right for her I guess," he said with the slightest hint of sadness in his voice. "But I've never seen her happier than I did this summer, and her happiness is what matters to me the most."

She gave him a kind smile. "You're a good person, Sam. I'm lucky to be able to call you my friend. As for Quinn's happiness this summer, I'm very glad to see I'm not the only one who noticed. Though I of course won't take credit for it, if that's what you might have been insinuating. Quinn had quite the summer. I think her happiness is mostly because she finally let someone else help carry the burdens."

"You mean you," he said as more of a statement than a question.

"No." Rachel shook her head. "Not just me. It was actually Santana of all people she opened up to first, though that's not so surprising. It makes sense given they are the two most closed off people I know. They would be the ones to open up to each other." She waited a moment, and sighed as she picked at her straw. "Quinn is very lucky to have Santana, as Santana is very lucky to have Quinn."

"I'd say Quinn was lucky to have you." Sam smiled.

Rachel looked up at his comment, and smiled back, her eyes watering just slightly. "Thank you, Sam. That's a very nice thing to say." She looked back down at the straw. "But I'm the lucky one of course."

Sam tilted his head as he watched her. "Uh…how is Santana? Do you know?"

"She is…managing." She sighed. "It's obviously very difficult, you know. I imagine it's probably the worst feeling in the world. This is what she was afraid of in the first place. Not this specifically, as I'm sure it was quite unexpected. The scale of it for starters, the way it all happened- Wait." She paused and looked up at him. "How do you even know about this? I thought it was only Quinn, Brittany and me."

"Quinn kind of said something about it when she was helping me watch Stacy and Stevie. She didn't go into details or anything," he said quietly.

"Yes. I don't know all the details either. I don't think anyone but Quinn and Santana know. Brittany probably knows some, but I'm sure Santana has hidden the uglier parts from her." She smiled slightly in understanding. "If anyone will be able to help her, it's Quinn….after what she's been through."

Sam nodded. "She's a strong person."

Rachel didn't answer for a moment. Her eyes began to water and she quickly wiped the tears that had barely begun to form away with her fingertips. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just that we spent so much time together, and thinking about all we've- all _she's_ been through and shared with me, and how very strong she's had to be…" She breathed in and out a few times as she wiped under her eyes again. "I can't talk anymore about this. Not right now okay?"

"It's fine, Rachel. I didn't mean to make you upset," he answered apologetically.

"You didn't," she quietly replied, shaking her head. "It's the situation. I blame it all on that stupid party. Thank goodness no one but Quinn, Brittany, and I knew about Santana then! Who knows what Finn might've-" Her facial expression grew angry, and the tone in her voice changed to match. "Damnit! Why does everything keep coming back to him?"

"It doesn't, it doesn't have to!" he said quickly, changing the subject. "Let's talk about more things that made me think you liked Quinn. We didn't finish that."

Rachel took deep breath. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just very frustrating. And I never curse, so you can imagine. Yes, please. Let's talk about my tells, and then maybe we'll finally get around to you answering my question."

"Your question?" he asked as he tried to remember. "Oh, yeah. There isn't much more of mine, so I'll finish, and then I'll answer that. Or I'll try."

"Of course, Sam," she nodded in agreement. "That was my suggestion. Go on and tell me what gave away my admiration for Quinn Fabray."

Sam slowly nodded his head for a few moments. "That's what it was mostly I guess, that you admire her. I mean the way you talked about her today is what really made me think. But everything always goes back to Quinn, doesn't it? That whole nose job thing, and you always talk about how pretty she is, you always go after her."

She thought for a second before responding. "I'm not sure how you know all these things, nor do I understand how you noticed so much. Or how you put all this together. It took me since the…" She rolled her eyes. "…party to figure out everything."

"It's harder to see things about yourself than for other people to, right?" he asked as he picked up his glass. "You know people think I'm not the brightest crayon in the box? I guess it's true when it comes to things that are boring, but things I find cool, like Avatar, and comic books, and Harry Potter, and you guys, my friends, I pay really close attention to." He shrugged as he took a drink, then set the glass back down. "I watch, and I like to listen."

Rachel smiled at him. "I think I've really missed out on a good friend in you, Sam."

"Well, you have me now and I am here to stay," he told her, smiling back. "Does this mean I get to joke with you now? I have a really good one!"

"Should I be scared?" she asked, laughing.

"No. It's funny! So, you know how today you told Finn you weren't gay…" he said, trying to sound serious, but cracking a smile. "You're just gay for Fabray?"

"Sam Evans!" Rachel exclaimed. "You brought up Finn! No more jokes for you!" She ran her fingers over her hair as she composed herself. "I mean, it's funny. I'm gay for Fabray. HA HA. I'll have to tell my dads that one." Her facial expression changed when she noticed the time. "Oh my, we need to focus! It's already two minutes until 7. We'll be lucky if I even get an answer!" She took a breath, closed and then opened her eyes again as she blew out. "Now. When might Quinn start talking to me again?"

"Santana said something about you guys not talking. What happened?"

Rachel turned to see Brittany standing beside the booth. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but closed it and turned back to Sam. "This _would_ happen. All because of your joke! You will answer my question," she said matter-of-factly.

As Sam put his hands up in front of him, nodded, and mouthed, 'okay, okay', Brittany spoke again. "You mean when Q is going to talk to you again? She'll talk to you she wants. Let her come to you." Brittany paused for a moment, and then continued. "They talked about you in the car today though, so it shouldn't be long."

Rachel scooted over in the booth to let Brittany sit down. "Brittany, what did they say?"

"I can't tell you, Rachel, that wouldn't be right," she said, shrugging as she slid into the booth.

Rachel moved her drink from in front of Brittany. "But you just told me they were talking about me! Why won't you tell me what they said?"

Brittany looked at Rachel as she reached for the menu behind the napkin holder. "It's not the same thing."

Rachel's mouth dropped again. "But now I know they were! Can't you at least tell me what it was in regards to? If the conversation was good or bad? What one of them said? Quinn preferably," she added quickly. "Brittany! Just tell me what they were talking about!"

"I told you it was about you, Rachel," Brittany answered her obviously.

Rachel rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything, Sam, who'd been silently sitting listening to them go back and forth, waved in the direction of the front entrance of the restaurant. "Hey! Mike!"

Rachel turned around to watch as Mike walked up to the table. He walked over to Sam's side, and after Sam scooted over to make room for him, he sat down. "Hey guys! What's up?"

"Mike, so nice of you to join us," she said, smiling at him before turning back to Brittany.

"I'm not that late, am I?" he asked, looking down to check the time on his phone.

"No," Sam answered him laughing. "She's just annoyed that Brittany won't give her the information she wants."

"Oh?" Mike looked to Rachel and then to Brittany. "What information?"

Rachel sighed as Brittany obliviously continued to look over her menu. She gestured towards her. "Quinn and Santana apparently had a conversation involving me, and she refuses to tell me what it was about!" Brittany went to speak, but Rachel cut her off. "Yes, I know it was about me."

Brittany shrugged, and Mike gave Rachel a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure there's a reason Britt can't tell you, and that it wasn't that bad. Right, Britt?"

"Oh, I'll tell you about it after dinner," Brittany said smiling, reaching in front of Rachel to put her menu back behind the napkin holder.

Rachel stared at her as she sat back again. "Are you- are you kidding me?"

Brittany shrugged, and before Rachel could say something else, Mike jumped in. "Hey! Let's talk about why we came here!"

"That sounds awesome," Sam agreed.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now then. Mike, are you aware of why I asked you and Sam to join Brittany and I for dinner today?"

"Because you have a song you want us, well, Sam, to sing to Quinn and Santana?" he answered.

"Yes! And I am very appreciative that you are willing to hear my suggestion." She reached into her purse and pulled out a small stack of papers. She thumbed through them, separating two copies of sheet music. She slid them across the table to Sam and Mike, and watched as they both looked over the music. "I imagine you are familiar with the song."

"I love this song, Rachel," Sam said smiling up to look at her. "I'm in."

"Yeah, me too. This is a great song. It's really good for both Santana and Quinn," he added. "I get it coming from Brittany, but I'm not sure I understand why it's coming from you, Rachel."

"Oh, that's easy, Mike," Brittany replied, straightening the way she was sitting. "Quinn is Rachel's Santana. Only she's Quinn. Because if she was Santana, then that would mean both me and Rachel loved Santana and that would be bad."

He nodded to himself. "That's why you wanted to know what they said about you. The song actually makes a lot more sense now." He looked over to Rachel, who sat staring hard at Brittany. "You know what, Rachel. That's really cool."

Rachel turned her head slightly to look at Mike, her eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry?"

"I said that's really cool," he repeated. "You know, that you like Quinn."

She perked up at his comment. "Well, thank you so much, Mike. That's very kind of you to say. I hope everyone, in glee club I mean, will be as supportive as the two of you are. I imagine they might be, with the exception of-" She cleared her throat. "Finn, of course. But if you would keep this to yourself, please, I don't want the rest of the school to find out. More importantly, I don't want Quinn to know just yet either."

Sam smiled at her in understanding. "She'll come around, Rachel."

Rachel nodded at Sam and smiled, then looked back at Mike. "So please don't say anything? You can tell Tina, but only if she asks. Don't volunteer any information? I understand that withholding information is still lying, but this is important to me. I hope you understand."

"If that's what you want, Rachel, then I won't tell anybody. And only Tina if she asks." Mike thought for an instant before he continued. "But can I ask what you're going to do about it if she never finds out you like her?"

"Well, I don't really have a plan as of right this moment. But I think we'll just start with the two of you singing this song to her and Santana." She gestured towards the papers in front of Mike and Sam. "And see what happens after that."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: My best friend likes Pezberry, so this one is for her. :)**

* * *

><p>She did not want to call Berry.<p>

Sure, she wasn't always so bad to be around.

Wait. No. She was.

She wasn't always so_ terrible_ to be around.

The talking. _It_ was bad. God knows what she even talked about, but she always did it, incessantly. Like what the hell _did_ she talk about? Nothing relevant. At least that's what Santana assumed. She couldn't be bothered to continue to listen after the first few words. If Berry ever said anything directly to Santana, she usually had to repeat herself. And even then, Santana usually had an insult waiting. But those were becoming even less frequent because of Q and the whole being in love with Berry thing.

…and maybe Santana felt a little bad always dragging Berry down. She would never admit this to anyone but Brittany, but Santana kind of envied that Berry knew who she was and she didn't really care what anybody thought.

But ask Santana why she always had something to say about her? She's the most annoying person to ever walk the planet.

And Q thought it was cute. _Cute_.

Like _what_ was cute? Any time Santana would say Berry was annoying, Q responded with, "I think it's cute." But what was 'it'? Whatever. Nothing about Berry was cute.

But it's not like Santana actually cared anyway.

A lot. It's not like she actually cared _a lot_.

Because she did care about _Q_. After everything this summer, she was slowly becoming the only other person Santana allowed herself to_ really_ care about. Not in the same way as Brittany and not nearly as much, but still. They'd gone through a lot together in a short amount of time. Quinn had been by her side through it all.

Especially the one time Britt wasn't around. That was the worst moment of her life, and Quinn was there. Quinn and Judy.

She didn't want to think about that. She needed to focus on this conversation she was about to have. Just Santana with Berry. Not like it had been over the summer, no. Q wasn't going to be there to act as a buffer. Q wasn't going to be there for Berry to focus all her attention on.

It was going to be all Berry.

What even?

Sometimes Santana wondered if she was trying to talk herself into not liking Berry. Yeah, she really didn't like one on one interaction with her. Sure, she did always have something negative to say to her. And she _was _annoying.

But Santana understood her. Berry knew what she wanted and she went after it, no matter what it cost. She had no inhibitions. And really, apart from the talking, which actually wasn't as terrible as Santana tried to convince herself it was, Berry was-

No. No. _No_.

Of course she didn't like her. She liked very few people. Brittany. Quinn. Karofsky. There was not room for Rachel.

Ugh.

Berry. _Berry._ _BERRY_.

Q was right. She was getting soft. Feelings. She blamed them.

Look at what they were doing to Q. She finally let herself actually feel this summer. She stopped denying that her feelings didn't exist, and she was like a completely different person. And now look at her. She shut everything off again. She barely talked to Santana. She hardly said a word to Puck. She wouldn't even speak to Rachel at all.

She was becoming a bitch. Again.

It suited Q most times, but not now. Not when Santana had to share a house with her, and definitely not when she had to share a bathroom with her. Or a car on the way to school with her. That was the worst. Mornings were hell. Q wasn't a morning person anyway, but Q without Rachel's good morning text was a nightmare. Q without Rachel- ugh, _BERRY_. Q without _Berry_ was a nightmare.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to call your girlfriend," Santana answered, looking up at Quinn standing with her arms crossed against the door frame leading into Santana's room.

Quinn raised an eyebrow at Santana. "She is not my girlfriend."

"You're right," Santana nodded. "And she's never going to be if you don't talk to her." Quinn opened her mouth to speak but Santana raised a hand to stop her. "And because I know you're not going to do that, I'm doing it for you."

"Don't you dare say anything to her about me, Santana," Quinn said with a combination of anger and slight panic in her voice.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she asked, looking at Quinn annoyed before her sarcastic smile returned. "I get just as much pleasure out of watching Berry suffer as you seem to."

Quinn's face dropped slightly, but she quickly hid it as she fell into HBIC mode. "Eff off, Santana."

"It's really the only explanation of why you're putting her through this," Santana responded lightly, still smiling.

Quinn took a deep breath, trying to control her voice. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"What exactly is it that I'm doing?" Santana asked innocently.

Quinn stared at her. "Really? You're going to be a bitch about it?"

"I only see one bitch here, Q," Santana stated simply.

"Santana," Quinn said slowly, annoyed. "Stop it."

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything," Santana shrugged.

Quinn glared at her, clearly agitated. "Stop trying to get a rise out of me. This is awful for me. Don't you understand that?"

"Oh?" Santana asked with feigned interest. "I hadn't noticed. Whose fault is that again?"

"Don't you think I know that?" Quinn retorted. "I know this is my fault! There's nothing I can do about it!"

"Seriously, Q?" Santana asked as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, beginning to walk towards her. "There is plenty you can do about it. You're just too scared to!"

Quinn forcefully dropped her arms to her sides as Santana approached her. "I'm sorry, but who's scared here?"

"Get out of my room! I have a phone call to make," she said, shoving Quinn backwards away from her door.

"Don't you- I want you out of my-" Quinn exclaimed, slightly shocked as she stumbled backwards, before she was cut off by the door being slammed in her face.

"Like you haven't threatened me with that before!" Santana shouted through the door, walking back to her bed. "Go _aways_ now, please. I have business on the phone with your girlfriend."

"She is not my girlfriend!" Quinn yelled back through the door. A few moments passed and her voice became more distant. "And don't say anything about me!"

Santana shouted after her. "I will try very hard!"

She heard Quinn stomp back to the door, right before she heard her hit it with what Santana assumed was the side of her fisted hand. "I hate you so much, Santana!"

"No, you don't. Now leave me alone," she replied, only elevating her voice so Quinn could hear her. "Go take some Midol or something."

Quinn growled out of irritation, and Santana listened as she stomped all the way back to her room, slamming the door when she got there. Once she knew Quinn was definitely away from her door, Santana picked up her phone, found the contact she wanted and hit the call button.

It rang two times before the shrill voice answered. "Good afternoon, Santana!"

"Berry," Santana replied, in a low monotone.

"How are you?"

Santana could feel the smile in her voice practically pushing up against the side of her face through the phone. So much so that she moved the phone an inch or two away. "Well, I'm just peachy. Considering what the chipper tone in your voice is doing to my ears."

"Thank you for asking, Santana, I'm doing fine myself," Rachel replied, still just as uppity.

Santana sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I didn't ask for a reason, Berry. I would like to hear your voice as little as possible, really. You suffer from word vomit."

"I have a big vocabu-"

"Yes. We've been through this. I don't care." She took her hand away from her face and opened her eyes. "I'm calling to tell you the song you and Britt are going to sing to Finnocence and Wheels."

"I find it rude that you practically insult me and still think I'm going to listen to what you have to say, much less have you tell me what I'm going to do."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Do you want to know why that is, Berry? Because you do it all the time. You're too nice. You let people drag you around and treat you however they want, and you just put up with it. You make it easy."

Rachel didn't respond for a few moments. "Well, would you rather I was more like Quinn and didn't put up with you telling me what to do?"

"Oh, Berry," Santana said shaking her head. "You have so much to learn."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, confusion in her voice.

"Well, I'm a lot smarter than you when it comes to being sneaky. And by that, I mean you and I are not talking about Q," she answered matter-of-factly.

"I wasn't trying to talk about Quinn."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yes, you were. Q is all you ever talk about anyway."

"That's not true. I talk about singing, and Broadway, and gold stars. And Barbra Streisand!"

"Oh. my. god," Santana said choppily. "Please. stop. talking."

Rachel sighed. "Shall we just move on to the reason you called?"

"Yes! That is a capital idea," Santana replied. "Now, remember when you sang 'Gives You Hell' to Finny?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course I remember."

Santana could hear it in her voice. This is what she needed. She needed Berry irritated. "I need you to go back to that Berry."

"I don't need to go anywhere. I am more than in the state of mind right now. After what happened with Finn, _very recently_, I don't understand how that wasn't apparent to you."

Santana raised her eyebrows. "I don't really pay attention to you, Berry. I don't understand how that wasn't apparent to _you_," she finished out mockingly.

"Must you always be so rude, Santana?"

"Must you always be so annoying, Ra- Berry?" she asked in the same mocking tone, rolling her eyes at herself at her almost slip up. After a few moments, Santana could hear Rachel laugh lightly on the other end. "Do you think something is funny?"

"Of course not," she replied, still laughing quietly. "You try so hard to deny the fact that you might actually like me. Why else would you call me by my first name?"

"I don't know, probably because that's what Q calls you all the freaking time," Santana snapped.

There was a pause before Rachel softly asked, "All the time?"

Santana's face hardened. "We're not talking about this, Berry."

"Can you just…tell me how she is? Please?" Her voice was even softer, with a trace of sadness.

"I don't know why I'm doing this." She took a deep breath and sighed. "She is unhappy. If she's not an angry bitch, she's a less angry bitch."

Rachel didn't answer for a few moments. "Why won't she talk to me?"

Santana contemplated her reply before answering. "She needs time."

"Do you- do you know about what happened?"

"Mhmm," she hummed.

"Does she hate me?"

Santana thought again before she answered, focusing her eyes on the door as if staring through it towards Quinn's room. "Not even close."

There was silence at the other end for a few instances before Rachel spoke. "Can you pass along a message for me?"

"Depends on what it is," she replied, her tone turning harder again.

"Can you tell her…I'm not mad at her…and…that I don't hate her?"

A confused look formed on her face before she responded. "You could tell her anything and that's what you pick?"

"She will understand."

Santana shook her head. "If you say so."

"Thank you, Santana."

"Don't mention it," she replied, quickly changing the subject. "Now the song. It fits both your and Britt's situations. These boys need to know that you and Britt are done with them."

"I think that's already clear on both accounts, Santana. I will absolutely never go back to Finn, not after what happened. And haven't Brittany and Artie been broken up for over four and a half months? Brittany shows no signs of ever wanting to go back to Artie. I don't think she ever has."

"I don't care about that," Santana replied sharply. "Berry, you are singing this song."

"Okay. Well, I never said I was or wasn't singing the song. Firstly, you haven't even told me the name of the song, so I don't know if I like it or not. Secondly, I still don't understand how you think I'm just going to give in and do what you want me to. Thirdly, I'm not sure why you are pushing this so hard, when it's clear to me and most everyone around us, particularly Brittany and Artie, that Brittany and Artie will never get back together. It's as if-"

"Berry…" Santana said lowly, cutting Rachel off.

"Yes?"

"How about you try something new and let me talk?" she asked with sarcastic sweetness.

"Of course, proceed. Just please remember to address every point I made in my previous statem-"

"I will. Now, shut. up, please. Afores I get upset." When Rachel didn't respond, Santana continued. "I will tell you the song after we've talked a little bit. You know the song, and you will like it. In fact, I can probably almost guarantee that it's on your breakup playlist."

"Okay. And the rest of my concerns?"

"I'm getting there, Berry," Santana answered with slight annoyance. "You will want to sing the song once I tell you what it is. It fits the situation. And about Britt and Wheelie? Let me ask you something. You like to sing your feelings don't you?"

"I do, and I already have a perfectly fitting song for this assignment showcasing my lack of feelings for Finn. One that is also non-threatening for Brittany, seeing as she and I are certainly not in the same situation."

"That's the problem with you," Santana began. "And it's why I'm here. You see, being around you all summer, I learned something."

"And what's that?"

She raised her eyebrows and hesitated for a moment. "I was about to tell you."

"I'm sorry. I get ahead of myself at times."

"You really do." She shook her head, even if Rachel couldn't see. "Now, everyone knows how impulsive you are. And everyone knows how that gets you into trouble. But I don't think anyone but…some other person and I know what happens when you stop and think about something."

"I over think."

"Yes, Berry! Yes you do!" Santana responded. "You're just like…that other person."

"You can say Quinn, Santana."

Santana cleared her throat out of annoyance. "No, I can't because we're not talking about Q."

"You are incredibly stubborn."

"_I'm_ stubborn? You obviously haven't met-" she stopped abruptly.

Rachel sighed. "Fine. So tell me why you pointed out what you did. I don't see what this has to do with anything, since you are obviously only using me to help pass along an unnecessary message to Artie."

Santana waited for a moment and closed her eyes. "Berry. I'm going to say this once to you. If you ever repeat it, I will deny it, and I will throw you in a locker every day for the rest of senior year, understand?"

"Yes. I understand. I will never repeat it to anoth-"

"Okay, okay," Santana said, cutting her off. "It's not just for Brittany. Artie didn't treat her like she deserved, and I want to toss him out of his wheelchair every time I see him because of it. But Finn didn't treat you how you deserved either, and it makes me want to punch him in the kidney every time I see him, too."

Rachel spoke, not being able to contain her curiosity. "Did Quinn put you up to this?"

"Berry, whether she had anything to do with this conversation or not shouldn't matter. We're _not_ talking about Q anymore, remember? Now, let me finish," she stated, agitatedly.

"Oh. Once again, I'm sorry."

"Whatever. I figure, you have a chance to really show these two how you feel in front of everyone." Her voice grew slightly more demanding. "Only this time, it's going to stick. You can't go running back to Finny like you have every other time."

"I'm done with…him. Santana, he hurt me, and even worse, he hurt Quinn. I don't care whether he had been drinking or not. There's no going back after…the party. I can forgive him, but I won't forget."

Santana hesitated for a moment before responding as she sorted through her thoughts. "A lot happened at that party."

"It did. Some I wish I could forget and some I never will."

A sneaky smile crept onto Santana's face as she recalled what it was that happened at the party and what it was Rachel was talking about, but then immediately dropped after she remembered it's why Q and Berry were in this whole mess to begin with. "Well, at least you finally saw the true side to a few people."

"Yes, I did."

"Marvelous," Santana said without much interest. "Anyway, about this duet, I won't lie; I want this for Britt more than you. I need you two to sing this duet so that the music can do the talking because no one takes what she says seriously."

"Of course. We seem to have a habit of getting off topic. Most people don't realize that Brittany's lack of speech just makes her words when she does speak that much more powerful. They underestimate her immensely."

"Berry." Santana almost felt like being nice to Rachel because someone other than her finally understood Brittany.

"Yes?"

But then she thought better of it and couldn't be having that. "You should take some lessons from her."

Rachel huffed. "Just please continue."

"Now, you and I are apparently the only ones who understand how Brittany works. That's why we need the perfect song for you to sing to get through to them." She smiled deviously as she continued. "It needs to get the point across without being too harsh. She wouldn't want to hurt Artie, but I need him to get it. And Finn too, I guess."

"Certainly, what song did you have in mind?"

* * *

><p>"You all should know, Artie and I are totally just friends. If I sang this to him, it would be mean," Brittany said as she stood in front of the rest of the glee club with Rachel. "So I'm just singing to help Rachel."<p>

"Wait, what?" Santana exclaimed from the second row.

"Uh, girls," Mr. Schuester said from the front row, looking from Santana back to Brittany and Rachel. "That wasn't the point of the assignment."

Brittany shrugged. "Rachel said if I didn't want to sing the song to Artie, I didn't have to."

"Brittany!" Rachel shouted as she quickly glancing between Brittany and Santana.

"Berry, we need to step outside," Santana said as she stood up, her arms crossed.

"They're about to do their duet, Santana. Can't this wait?" Mr. Schuester asked as he watched her step down a stair.

"No, Mr. Schue, it can't," she answered, stepping down the second stair. She walked towards the door, not turning to look at Rachel, continued, "Come on, Berry."

"If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back," she stated to Mr. Schuester before she turned to follow Santana. She quickly walked to and out the door, turning to the right to where Santana stood leaning against the wall. "What is so important you had to speak to me before the duet?"

Santana stared hard at Rachel. "What did you say to Britt when you told her about the song?"

"Just what you told me to," she answered before noticing the dissatisfied look on Santana's face. "Exactly what you told me to!"

"And what was that?" Santana asked firmly, raising her eyebrows.

"You can't be serious!" Rachel replied, looking at Santana with disbelief.

"Oh, I am," Santana stated. "Tell-"

The look on Rachel's face grew more disbelieving. "I think that's a bit ridiculous. You don't think I actually remember exactly what I-"

"Cut me off again, Berry," Santana interrupted. "And see what happens."

"I don't understand how you continue to expect me to give you what you want when you continue to threaten me," she quietly exclaimed.

"That's why I do it," she responded. "Tell. me, now."

"You could always just ask me nicely," she responded softly. "I'd be more than willing to-"

"Berry!" Santana shouted, causing Rachel to jump slightly. "If you say one more damn thing that is not exactly what you said to Britt, I will go all Lima Heights."

"Okay. Again with the threatening..." She cleared her throat. "I said, 'Though I originally had a song prepared that would convey my lack of feelings for Finn, and also your lack of feelings for Artie, I have come across what I find to be a much more suitable song to mine, and I'm assuming your feelings at this moment. Because I do not have a lack of feelings for Finn, I have angry feelings for Finn. We need both of these stupid boys to understand that we are better off without them.' Happy?"

"That's not what I told you to tell her," Santana responded, irritated.

"I know. But if you'll note, I included the part about the 'stupid boys' that you pushed so hard for!" Rachel defended. "I would never say that, Santana. And not to mention, I had to insert Rachel Berry vocabulary to make it believable," she finished matter-of-factly.

"Well, something in your stupid Rachel Berry vocabulary made this happen!" She yelled dramatically dropping her hands to her sides.

"It wasn't that!" Rachel blurted out. "And don't yell at me."

Santana was about to say something, but closed her mouth, and raising an eyebrow, glared at Rachel. "Then what was it, Berry?"

Rachel waited for a few moments before she broke eye contact with Santana, and looked down at the ground. She crossed her arms before looking back up. "You- you should have seen her! She was so sad. She did not want to sing it to him. I- I couldn't make her, so…" She closed her eyes and finished her sentence at lightning speed. "I may have mentioned something about understanding that she and Artie were definitely through, and it was okay if she just helped me sing the song to Finn." She opened her eyes slowly waiting for Santana's reaction.

"Mother f-" Santana stopped herself. She took a deep breath in and out. "You are so lucky Q is in that classroom, Berry. Or else we would've had it out."

"I am sorry!" Rachel said sincerely. "You of all people should understand how hard it is to not give into Brittany. Besides, and I'm sure I risk my nose in saying this, so please don't react immediately upon hearing what I have to say." She paused for a moment as she waited for Santana to respond, and when she didn't, Rachel nodded and continued. "While I'm sorry about all this with Brittany, I really am, it wouldn't make a difference whether she sang to Artie or not, Santana. It's not Artie that's keeping you two apart."

"I'm not talking to you about this," Santana replied, a hint of sadness in her voice. She swallowed before her voice became slightly angered. "Don't act like you know me."

Rachel looked at her for a moment, studying the hurt on her face. "I know you don't let many people in. You're like Quinn in that way. But whether you wanted me to or not, I got to know you this summer. Whether it was through Quinn or it was when we were around each other, I did."

Santana stared at her before she responded. "That doesn't mean you have any idea what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Rachel asked genuinely. "I know I'm not Quinn, and you haven't ever talked to me about any of this, but I do see things."

"We're not talking about Q right now," Santana mumbled.

Rachel sighed. "I know that, Santana. I wasn't trying to. You are avoiding what I'm trying to say. You have been this entire conversation."

"Whatever. I just don't want to hear what you have to say," she replied. "But Berry, if you ruin this for me, I swear."

"Nothing will be ruined, Santana," she said, shaking her head. "I think you are far too worried about this."

"Did you not see what just happened in there?"She looked around the deserted hallway, trying to compose herself before continuing. She finally turned back to Rachel. "They are friends, Berry. Friends!"

"Yes, I realize that. But that is all they are, "Rachel assured her. "Can't you see? She loves you, Santana. She would do anything for you. She sees the hurt that you are going through and she would do anything to make it go away. All she wants is to see you happy." She paused a moment as she studied Santana. "You know all she talked about the entire time we were rehearsing was you? And how she didn't even care to sing to Artie because all she cares about is you? You know that, Santana, I know you do. And I know you feel the exact same way." She waited an instance before adding, "She's already yours, okay?"

Santana broke eye contact with Rachel, and moving her eyes to focus on the wall she was leaning against. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lips for a few moments before speaking and wiping her fingertips under her eyes quickly. "Berry, something got in my eyes when you were talking."

"I'm sorry that happened." She gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Now then, you better get your ass out there and sing this song to Finny, understand?" Santana flicked her finger towards the choir room. "I don't want to have gone through all this talking with you for nothing."

"I can assure you, I will give it my all," she replied firmly, nodding.

As Rachel turned to head back into the classroom, Santana stopped her. "Berry?"

Rachel stopped and turned back. "Yes, Santana?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You know none of this means we're friends."

Rachel gave her a small smile in understanding before turning to walk back into the classroom. "I know."

Santana waited until Rachel was in the classroom before she let herself smile for a moment and followed after her. As she entered, she announced, "I don't have all day for this duet. Let's get a move on!"

Sam scrunched his forehead as he watched her take a seat. "But you and Rachel just talked out there for like 10 minutes."

"And?" she asked, turning in her seat to look at him. "You don't think that was exactly fun for me, do you?"

Quinn glared at Santana from the seat next her. "Can. we. just let them sing-their-duet?"

Santana turned to give Quinn a look. Quinn just shrugged in response.

"That's a great idea." Mr. Schuester agreed. "Ladies, the floor is yours."

"Fabulous!" Rachel responded, turning to Brittany, who had come up to stand next to her again. "Are you ready?"

Brittany nodded. "Yep!"

Rachel turned away from Brittany to look directly at Finn. The look on her face wasn't sad, and wasn't angry. It was hard and it was hurt. "This is the last time I will ever sing to you, Finn." She continued looking at him for just a moment, and then her face softened when she looked behind him, making eye contact with Quinn. She stared at her for just a second, before Quinn looked away. Rachel turned to the band with a slight look of regret on her face and nodded.

As the music began to play, Rachel closed then opened her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing only on Finn as she began:

Rachel:

_Here's the thing, we started off friends.  
>It was cool, but it was all pretend.<br>Yeah, yeah.  
>Since you've been gone.<em>

_You dedicated, you took the time._  
><em>Wasn't long till I called you mine.<em>  
><em>Yeah, yeah.<em>  
><em>Since you've been gone.<em>

_And all you'd ever hear me say,_  
><em>Is how I pictured me with you.<em>  
><em>That's all you'd ever hear me say.<em>

Rachel and Brittany:

_But since you've been gone,  
>I can breathe for the first time.<br>I'm so movin' on, yeah, yeah.  
>Thanks to you, now I get what I want.<br>Since you've been gone._

Rachel:

_How can I put it? You put me on.  
>I even fell for that stupid love song.<br>Yeah, yeah.  
>Since you've been gone.<em>

_How come I'd never hear you say?_  
><em>I just wanna be with you?<em>  
><em>I guess you never felt that way.<em>

Rachel and Brittany:

_But since you've been gone,  
>I can breathe for the first time.<br>I'm so movin' on, yeah, yeah.  
>Thanks to you now I get, I get what I want.<br>Since you've been gone._

_You had your chance you blew it,  
>Out of sight, out of mind.<br>Shut your mouth, I just can't take it.  
>Again and again and again and again.<em>

Rachel:

_Since you've been gone._

Brittany:

_(Since you've been gone.)_

Rachel:

_I can breathe for the first time.  
>I'm so movin' on, yeah, yeah.<br>Thanks to you,_

Brittany:

_(Thanks to you,)_

Rachel and Rachel:

_Now I get, _

Rachel:

_I get what I want_.

Rachel and Brittany:

_I can breathe for…_

Rachel:

…_the first time.  
>I'm so movin' on, yeah, yeah.<br>Thanks to you,_

Brittany:

_(Thanks to you,)_

Rachel:

_Now I get,_

Brittany:

_(I get,)_

Rachel:

_You should know,_

Brittany:

_(You should know,)_

Rachel and Brittany:

_That I get, _

Rachel:

_I get what I want._

Rachel and Brittany:

_Since you've been gone.  
>Since you've been gone.<em>

Rachel:

_Since you've been gone._

Rachel smiled when she was finished looking over to Brittany. Both girls were breathing heavily as they began to walk back to their seats and the glee club began to clap.

"Great job, ladies," Mr. Schuester praised as clapped and stood to walk to the front of the class. "We could really see the emotion behind the song."

"Thank you very much," Rachel replied as she walked back to take her seat in the third row next to Puck.

She was followed by Brittany who took a seat next to Santana in the second row. "What'd you think?" she asked smiling.

Santana returned the smile widely. "It was great, B." She stared at Brittany for a few moments before breaking eye contact, looking down at Finn and lightly kicking the leg of his chair. "What'd you think, Finnly?"

"I think it they did a good job," he replied flatly. "But I don't understand why it was just sung to me."

"Because Hudson," Lauren, who was sitting next to Puck, jumped in. "You and my man Artie aren't exactly in the same situation."

Finn turned around in his seat with a confused look on his face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think what she means is that Artie made one mistake, but you just keep making them." Tina shrugged when Finn turned to the left where she was sitting to gawk at her.

He turned around in his seat, slouching. "When's the last time I even said anything bad?" he mumbled.

Quinn whipped her head up and glared at him. "You cannot be serious!"

Santana went to respond as well, but Brittany beat her to it. "Well, a week and a half ago you said really mean things about Quinn and Rachel. You made both of them cry. How could you not remember that?"

Quinn turned around for a moment and made eye contact with Rachel before quickly turning around in her seat.

"I said I was sorry," Finn responded bitterly.

"Like that really makes a difference, dude," Puck commented.

Finn didn't turn around, only sat in his seat not saying anything. The awkward silence was broken by Kurt. "Well, if we're done here, I have a four o'clock appointment for a facial." He leaned over to pick up his shoulder bag from the chair next to him that separated him from Quinn.

"Of course," Blaine agreed as he started to stand from his seat next to Kurt's. "And you can't be late for that." Kurt smiled at him as he also stood up.

Mr. Schuester laughed. "Yes, we're done, so you are all free to leave," he said before turning to gather his papers from on top of the piano.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Schue, before we leave," Mercedes asked from where she was siting on the right hand side of the front row. "You never told us what order we're performing our duets. Who's next?"

"Ah, right! I guess Sam and Mike can go next," he answered as he turned around, and looked between both boys. "If that's okay with the two of you?"

"Yeah, that's cool. We already have our song ready to go," Sam replied from where he sat next to Mercedes, sneaking a small glance at Rachel and smiling.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, Quinn was sitting at her desk in her bedroom, writing yet another draft of a letter when she saw Santana walk by her opened door. "Hey, Santana?" she called after her.<p>

Santana stopped and turned around to walk back to stand in the doorway. "Yeah?"

Quinn hesitated, looking back down at her letter before answering. "How is she?"

Santana looked at her for a moment. "She asked the same about you, you know."

Quinn smiled to herself before hurt covered her face again. "She seemed angry about Finn. I would be okay with that, if that was all it was."

"I'm going to be honest with you, Q. Finn isn't the issue." She studied Quinn's face, waiting for a reaction.

"I know that. I am," she replied softly, looking up to Santana. "What am I going to do?"

"I don't know, Q, you could always talk to her," Santana suggested obviously.

"I can't, Santana." Quinn shook her head, looking down at the letter again. "Not yet."

Santana hesitated in turning to leave. "She's not too bad, you know." She raised an eyebrow while awaiting Quinn's response.

"It took you long enough to realize that," she laughed.

Santana thought for a moment. "I miss this Q…the one Rachel brought out," Santana commented, nodding towards her.

"_Rachel_?" Quinn asked, trying to fight a smile.

Santana rolled her eyes as she spun around to leave. "Damnit! Berry! _BERRY_!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Oh, hello. Long time, no see.  
>Does anybody still even care about this? *crickets* Well, I do, so here we are.<br>It's been almost a year. How ridiculous. But I take a long time to write because I'm a perfectionist and I get very sidetracked and life. Quite a number of times (all the time), my characters decide to run off and join the circus. And where the characters go, you follow.  
>(They didn't literally join the circus, to clarify, all right.) <strong>

* * *

><p><em>She stood in front of the entrance to William McKinley High School on the morning of her first day of freshman year, staring at the place she would hopefully run for the next four years of her life. She'd been standing in the same place, her eyes flicking from window to window, letting the chipping paint, the dirty glass, and the slightly overgrown shrubbery sink in. <em>

_This _had_ to be hers. _

_Or rather, it had to be _Quinn's_._

_She hadn't been Quinn for long. Two months or so at the most. She didn't know who Quinn was. But whoever she was, Quinn wasn't who she wanted to be. _

_But Quinn was who she _needed_ to be. And all she knew about her was _what_ she needed to be. _

_She didn't want this, this school, to be Quinn, any of it. _

_But she_ needed_ it._

_Because she couldn't be that girl anymore. She couldn't be the girl she was just a few months ago. The girl who had no friends, who no one would even get close enough to to be lab partners with, who more people knew the demeaning nicknames of than her actual name. The girl who could feel the disgust radiating off of anyone that looked in her direction._

_She squeezed her eyes shut and took three deep breaths. "Hold it together, hold it together."_

_She hated that girl. She hated her. She was repulsive and ugly, and she _hated _her._

_Everyone else did, so why shouldn't she?_

_It's not like she was kind. It's not like she would have done anything for anyone. It's not like she was generous. It's not like she wasn't caring, loving, and _good_. _

_It didn't matter that she _was_ any of those things. Because she was never given the chance to show anyone who she really was._

_She could be that person now. Now that her outsides finally matched her insides. She was beautiful and she knew it._

_But being a beautiful person on this inside would never get her where she needed to be._

_She couldn't be who she used to be. _

_She had to be the exact opposite of that girl she hated so much._

_Suddenly__ she was jolted from her thoughts as someone slammed right into her from the back and her books dropped to the ground. Her first instinct was to apologize, regardless of the fact that she wasn't at fault, but she caught herself, remembering that _Quinn_ Fabray didn't do that. "Oh my god, watch where you're going much?" She bent down to pick up her books, not even bothering to see who she was talking to. "Do you see what you just did?"_

"_Oh, oh my goodness. I apologize," a small brunette girl replied, walking to the left side of the entryway to gather two of Quinn's notebooks that had slid across the floor. "It- it's my first day. I'm just rather nervous. It was an accident. I'm really very sorry."_

_Quinn forced a loud sigh as she picked up the last book that had landed next to her. "It's _my_ first day too and you don't see me running into anybody, do you?" She stood up as she saw the girl facing the other direction, picking up the second of the two books._

"_Well, there's no one else around to run into," she said as she stood up. "There are still 45 minutes left until school even starts. I'm sure most of the campus is deserted. There probably aren't even that many teachers here yet." She turned around before continuing, walking towards Quinn holding out her books. "I'd say your chances of running into someone are actually very slim."_

_Quinn opened her mouth to make a smart comment back, but shut it as soon as she made eye contact with the girl. _

_Because in that moment, everything changed. _

_She completely lost track of where she was and what she was doing. All thoughts of the girl she used to be and the girl she needed to be disappeared and were replaced with_ this_ girl._

_All of a sudden, nothing mattered to her. Not the school, not her parents, nothing. Only _her_. _

_She felt things she didn't even know she could feel. A million things at once, exploding in every direction._

_All sorts of emotions she didn't even know she had came rushing to the surface, burning her as they pushed to get out._

_All the walls that she'd worked so hard to build up, making herself virtually impenetrable, came crashing down around her._

_All because of the girl standing in front of her._

_She knew in that moment, that there was something different about this girl. That there would always be something different about this girl._

_Finally, the silence was broken by the girl as she tilted her head, smiling. "Would you like me to carry your books, or are you going to take them?" She gave Quinn a small smile as she lifted the books up in the air a bit, gesturing towards them with a nod of her head. She laughed lightly._

_Quinn didn't know how long she had been standing there, and she panicked at the sound of the girl's voice. She was shaken from her thoughts by it, and it resonated in her head, echoing over and over again as her thoughts kept multiplying, and becoming more and more overwhelming. The thoughts that she'd been trying to ignore for years already were being made into nothing compared to what she was feeling right now. _

_This girl…this girl, who had been in her life for no more than five minutes…had completely flipped her world upside down. _

_If she thought she knew nothing before. She really knew nothing now._

_This could not be happening to her._

_Quinn Fabray could not care about this girl. _

_Quinn Fabray could not feel this way about a girl._

_Quinn Fabray could not feel this way about _this_ girl. _

_She couldn't._

_She would be disowned._

_Her reputation._

_Her home._

_Her life._

_Her everything._

Gone.

_Quinn quickly reached out and yanked the books from the girl's arms. "No, I do not want you to carry my books," she said with much more anger than she'd intended._

_The girl dropped her arms to her sides, clearly startled by the emotion behind Quinn's voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I was only joking. You don't have to be upset."_

_Quinn forced herself to glare at the girl. "What is your name?"_

"_Rachel Berry," the girl answered quietly._

_Quinn inhaled sharply, swallowing her emotions, burying everything that had just come to the surface. She made a promise to herself that moment that she would never allow these feelings to come out in the open and she would never admit to anyone she felt the way she did for Rachel Berry. These feelings would be locked away with the girl she used to be. She put up her best bitch front as she pushed the final of her thoughts away. "Well, I suggest you forget this interaction ever happened," she snapped. "Do you know what a slushee facial is?"_

_Rachel looked taken aback from the forcefulness in Quinn's voice. "No…"_

"_You'll find out soon enough," she said sharply, before stealing a quick glance at Rachel's tiny hands balled up in nervous fists at her sides. Her eyes shot up again. "Now run along Man Hands, before I personally deliver one to you myself." She lifted her eyebrow at Rachel, and gave her one last hard look before she walked up to the door to the school, yanking it open, and walking through it and away as fast as she could, trying everything to keep the emotions that were trying to bubble over down and her tears in as she did._

_Quinn Fabray could not love this girl._

But she did.

* * *

><p><em>Santana sat at the foot of Quinn's bed, huffing out of annoyance as she looked up to see Quinn unmoving. She rolled her eyes. "<em>_What is taking you so long to call her?" _

_Quinn continued to stare at her phone for a few moments before looking up, slight sadness in her eyes. "I- I was thinking about…some things."_

"_Well, stop it," Santana replied sharply. "It probably had something to do with Berry. So, turn your thoughts into actions and call. I don't have all summer to wait for you, so come. on." She waved her hand in a 'speed it up' fashion._

_Quinn remained silent for a few moments before speaking. "__I was thinking about the day I met her." She looked up to see if Santana would object, but Santana only looked down and began filing her nails. Quinn took that as a go ahead and began to tell the story of that first meeting, with the exception of what happened after she walked away from Rachel. Because she wasn't ready for anyone to know quite how much of an effect Rachel Berry had on her._

_Santana didn't look up from what she was doing when she answered. "That was an interesting story, Q. Who knew you literally smacked into the love of your life," she commented sarcastically. "Now, just friggin' call. You're aggravating me."_

_Quinn scrunched her eyebrows together as she looked down at her phone. "What if she doesn't answer?"_

"_She will," Santana replied, not looking up._

_Quinn unlocked her phone and stared at the contact that was open. "What if she hangs up on me?"_

"_She won't," Santana responded, again not looking up._

_Quinn allowed her index finger to hover over the screen. "What if-"_

"_Just shut it, Fabray," Santana snapped as she jerked her head up to look at Quinn. "Why are you so nervous?"_

_Quinn exhaled loudly, dropping her shoulders. "Because, Santana, this is real. This matters. And I don't want to mess it up."_

_Santana rolled her eyes. "You're not going to mess up. And if you do, look at all the times she's forgiven Finnsey."_

"_But I don't want to be like Finn," Quinn said, her voice elevating. She paused, and continued more softly. "I want to be different for her."_

_Santana nodded once in understanding. "Okay. Look. You spent the last three years torturing the poor girl relentlessly. And despite that, she still wants to be your friend." Quinn went to speak but Santana put a hand up to stop her. "And don't tell me you can't see that either. Hello, prom. Anyway, that's without you even trying. Just imagine what it will be like if you actually put a little effort into it."_

"_How do I even have her number?" Quinn asked, obviously not paying attention to anything Santana was saying._

"_Por el amor dedios!" Santana exclaimed as she slammed her file down and climbed up to the top of the bed. _

"_Don't speak Spanish at me!" Quinn sputtered, pushing her back up against her pillows away from Santana, who was now on her knees right in front of Quinn. "What are you-"_

"_Give me that damn phone." Santana jerked the phone from Quinn's hand, pushed the call button, and put it on speaker. "See? That wasn't difficult." She smiled as she handed the phone back to Quinn, and fell back onto her butt towards the end of the bed._

_As it began ringing, she looked down at the screen of the phone in her slightly shaking hands, back up to Santana with wide eyes, and mouthed, "What did you do?!"_

_Santana rolled her eyes, rolled onto her back on the bed, and went back to filing her nails. Quinn sat up against the pillows trying not to move as the phone continued to ring. It rang six times when the familiar voice rang through Quinn's bedroom._

"Hello! You have reached the voicemail of Rachel Berry! I apologize I was unable to answer your call! If you leave your name, number, the time and date that you called, and a brief message, I will get back to you at my earliest convenience. Have a 'Berry' wonderful day!"

_Quinn froze. _

_Suddenly the girl who had stood in front of the school with Rachel Berry a little less than four years ago came rushing to the surface. She showed up nearly every time there was any interaction with Rachel. There hadn't been many times Quinn had let herself come in contact with Rachel, but every time, try as she might, she could never cover that girl up completely. _

_Not with _her_. _

_It was like Rachel knew who she really was. She saw the girl underneath the at-one-time president of the celibacy club and captain of the Cheerios, whose biggest goal was to be prom queen, to be the most popular girl in the school, the HBIC. Everyone else saw _Quinn_, but not Rachel. _

_Rachel saw the real Quinn, who wasn't even really _Quinn_ at all._

_Quinn looked down at the phone again, up to Santana, who was gesturing with her hand for Quinn to talk, and back down to the phone, which now read 0:39 seconds into the call. _

_Quinn did the only thing she could think of and hung up._

_"__Damnit, Q," Santana said, slamming her hand holding the file down on the bed out of annoyance. "What the hell just happened?"_

_Quinn silently shrugged._

_Santana rolled her eyes. "You are ridiculous." She looked back down to her fingernails, observing her right ring finger closely before dropping her hand back down and looking up at Quinn once more. "I don't like what this girl does to you. One day you're happy and like planning your wedding with her, and the next you're nervous about _calling her_. Let me let you in on a little secret, Quinn. You're not going to marry the girl if you can't even make a damn phone call!"_

"_Excuse me that I am not used to feeling anything, Santana!" Quinn snapped. "Excuse me that this is important to me! Excuse me, that for once, just once, I'd really, really like to not mess something up in my life!"_

"_IT'S TIME TO TRY DEFYING GRAVITY!"_

_Quinn was so startled by how loud the song coming from the phone was and the vibration against her palm that she nearly flung the device right out of her hand. She looked down as she gripped it tighter to see one of her favorite pictures of Rachel looking back at her. It was Rachel's sophomore yearbook picture. She had on the light blue dress with the ruffles on her shoulders, and the very top of her hair loosely pulled back, with a huge smile on her face. _

"_I THINK I'LL TRY DEFYING GRAVITY!"_

"_Answer that phone, Fabray. _Right. now_," Santana hissed. _

_Quinn didn't look up, but continued to look at the picture of Rachel as her thumb hovered for a moment over the little green phone that would answer the call, before she pressed down, per Santana's "request", she put it on speaker. She brought it up closer to her mouth as she took a deep breath in and out before speaking. "Hello?" _

"_Yes, hello. This is Rachel Berry. Someone called me from this number?"_

"_Oh, I did," Quinn replied before rolling her eyes at herself. Santana shook with silent laughter. "It's me," she added, before rolling her eyes again. "I mean…it was me who called you. It's Quinn." She shook her head slowly at her own stuttering as Santana continued to snicker. _

"_Oh... Quinn... I'm afraid this isn't the number I have you saved in my contacts under."_

_"I know..." She hesitated before continuing. "I didn't give you the real one."_

"_Oh." _

_A few moments of silence passed before Quinn responded. "I just-"_

"_At least-"_

_Both girls stopped what they were saying, having spoken at the same time. Rachel was the first to speak again. "My apologies. What is that you were you going to say?"_

"_You can go ahead with whatever you were going to say; it's fine," Quinn replied._

"_You're being uncharacteristically nice, Quinn. Is there something you need from me? Because really, I'd be much less offended and much more appreciative if you were just honest with me."_

_Quinn pulled her body away from the phone as if Rachel's words had infected it with some sort of disease, having been caught off-guard by the accusation. Unable to stop herself, the tone of her response was laced with irritation. "I don't need anything from you, Rachel." _

"_Then why is it that you called?"_

"_Perhaps I actually wanted to be nice to you. Perhaps I wanted to see how you were doing, how your summer was going," she answered borderline sarcastically. _

"_I don't really know what you expect of me, Quinn. It strikes me as odd that you just seemingly out of the blue decide to call me, and one of the first things you tell me is that the reason it was unknown to me it was you who called was because you had given me an inaccurate number. And, might I add, that you still have the rude tone you always do with me? Because you do. And tell me, what am I supposed to do with that?"_

_Quinn looked at Santana, who shared the same surprised look on her face that Quinn did. She took a short breath before answering. "I didn't give you the right number because I didn't know if you'd call me every five seconds to remind me to work on my pitch or my occasional sharpness and I just didn't want to have to hear 'Defying Gravity' playing from my phone all the time." _

"_You have my number set with a personalized ringtone?" _

_Quinn literally face palmed herself, keeping her hand covering her face so not to look at Santana. But she didn't have to see her to know that she was silently laughing again. She could feel it by the shaking of her bed. "Yes, so I can know not to-" Quinn's words were cut off as a nail file was thrown at her face. She squeaked in response._

"_Quinn, are you all right?"_

"_What?" Quinn asked, picking the file up off her lap and glaring at Santana. "Oh, yeah. I was just saying, so I can know not to answer in the same way I would one of the Cheerios. So I wouldn't scream at you... or anything." Santana held her hand out for her file and Quinn threw it back at her._

_"All right, Quinn. I don't know what you're playing at, but the amount of things wrong with your most recent statements, I just… Since when have you been concerned about yelling at me? It's not like you've ever been hesitant about it before." She paused. "But more importantly, __if I didn't even have the correct number for you, how would I call you in the first place?"_

_As Santana reached for the file that landed at the corner of the bed opposite where she was, she collapsed onto the bed and began silently laughing again. Quinn looked down at her phone, quickly trying to think of something to say. "Oh, umm, well, I…"_

"_You know what? I'm not even sure I want to know. So, how about we leave it be? I'm sure you'll give me a perfectly logical explanation one day when you're ready, or when you have it. But…if you'd please tell me why you called." She took a breath. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"_

_Quinn sat trying to contemplate everything Rachel had just said. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and she leaned back into the pillows behind her. "I just wanted to see… Well, I just wanted, umm, how are you?"_

"_Quinn? Is something wrong? Are you in trouble? Are you being held against your will? Are you strapped to a bomb? Is that why you're acting so strangely? Oh god. It is. There's no other explanation. Quinn, what can I do? Do you need me to call 911 or the ACLU?"_

_The biggest smile grew on Quinn's face at the concerned tone in Rachel's voice. "__Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "You don't need to call anybody. I'm perfectly safe. I promise."_

"_That's of course what you would have to say if you were in any of the situations I mentioned. And how did you get yourself in that predicament in the first place? Did you not get the rape whistle I left in your locker sophomore year?"_

_In the middle of Quinn trying to contain her laughter, she asked, "That was you?"_

"_Of course it was me, Quinn. Who else would it be? Do you not remember my power point on the importance of safety for young girls in Lima? When you walked out without picking up your whistle, I took the liberty of putting it in your locker."_

"_And you got my locker combination how?" Quinn asked, with no malice in her voice, only curiosity. _

"_That information is on a need-to-know basis, I'm afraid." A few seconds passed. "Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quinn Fabray, how am I supposed to know for sure that you haven't been kidnapped? Oh, I've got it! If you really are safe, tell me a song we sang in glee club any time over the last two years, and if you aren't, tell me a song we haven't."_

"_Rachel…" Quinn laughed._

"_I'm serious!"_

"_I know you are. That's what makes it so funny." Quinn dropped her head and continued to laugh. She refused to look at Santana._

"_I'm concerned for your safety and you think it's funny."_

"_Rachel, if you could only hear yourself," she said, trying to stop herself from laughing. _

"_So did I play into whatever joke you had planned for me well enough? Or did I just make myself into an even better joke for you to laugh at with all your friends?"_

_All humor was washed from Quinn's face. "You are not a joke. That's not what this is." Quinn looked down at her phone and turned the speaker off as she stood up to leave her bedroom. She brought the phone up to her ear, not turning around to acknowledge Santana as she walked out the door. "I'm not like that anymore, Rachel. I won't ever do something like that to you again."_

"_I don't know what to say to that, Quinn."_

_Quinn let the full weight of Rachel's words sink in as she took a seat on the top step of the staircase at the end of the hall. "That's okay," she said softly, her sadness showing through. "The reason I called… I was going to ask if maybe I could take you to dinner?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've been terrible to you for a long time, and I know it's going to take me even longer to make up for everything I've done. I know that I can't take any of it back, but if you'll give me the chance, even though I don't deserve it, I will do anything I can to try to make it up to you."_

_The line was silent for about a minute before Quinn asked, "Rachel?"_

"_I apologize for my silence. I'm trying to process everything you just said to me."_

"_Okay," Quinn replied, nodding confusedly. She waited for a few moments for Rachel to speak, and when moments turned into more than a few seconds and that turned into a number of minutes, her nerves couldn't take it anymore. She waited five more seconds before speaking herself. "You C-"_

"_I've c-"_

_Quinn couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "We keep doing that."_

_Rachel returned the laugh, though Quinn could tell it wasn't the most genuine. "Yes, it would seem so. And now you may speak, since I spoke the last time."_

_The sudden stiffness of Rachel's voice brought a frown to Quinn's face. She sighed silently as she looked down and began tracing patterns on the hardwood floor beside her. "I was going to say, 'You Can't Always Get What You Want'." _

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"_The song," Quinn clarified. "You asked for a song. There's my answer."_

"_You were very pretty that day."_

_Quinn abruptly stopped her movements on the floor, flattening her palm to it and pushing down, gripping the stair she was sitting on. She considered for a moment before replying. "You were amazing that day." _

_There was silence on the line for nine seconds. Quinn counted every one._

"_Honestly, it was nothing. I'd had that number prepared for a very long time, should an emergency situation arise. I could have-"_

"_Rachel…" Quinn interrupted._

_Rachel cleared her throat annoyedly. "Yes, Quinn?"_

"_I'm sorry to interrupt you, and I would love to hear you talk all about sectionals and every performance we've ever had and musicals and Barbra Streisand and gold stars or really anything you wanted, but it just took a lot for me to ask you what I did." Quinn snapped her eyes shut quickly, realizing her mistake. "But it's not in the way you might think, okay?" She took a deep breath, having not done so the entire time she was just speaking. "But I would like it if you would meet me at BreadstiX at 7 o'clock on Friday night for dinner…Please."_

_Eighteen seconds this time. If it weren't for Quinn's nervousness about this length of silence, she would have smiled about the fact that it was the date of Rachel's birthday._

"_Quinn, I- I'm incredibly surprised by this invitation from you. I'm not- I'm not sure exactly how I'm supposed to feel, because I certainly never saw this coming. I wasn't prepared for this, and that should- I'm prepared for everything. I- I've worked very hard to be your friend for a long time, and this is the first time you've ever made any effort back. It means a lot to me, Quinn. It really does. And I would love to go to dinner with you."_

"_Really?" Quinn asked, trying to control the smile on her face that had already formed because of the change of tone in Rachel's voice and now grew even bigger because she'd agreed to go._

"_Of course. We can catch up on each of our summers so far and all that jazz. I don't think much of my summer will be very surprising for you, but perhaps yours will be for me. I've always wondered what a day in the summer life of Quinn Fabray is like."_

"_It is very different from summers of the past, I'll tell you that," Quinn said honestly._

"_I cannot wait to hear all about it! I'm sure you have loads to tell me! What with your Cheerios activities and how that new haircut is working for you. But for now, I must go downstairs for Monday Night Movie Night with my dads. We're venturing outside the realm of musicals and nature documentaries and into the deep dark depths of Pixar."_

"_The deep dark depths of Pixar?" Quinn asked, playfully._

"_Yes, I'm all about the classic Disney movies."_

"_I see," Quinn answered, smiling at Rachel's reply. "You can tell me about it on Friday if you'd like."_

"_Oh, I most definitely will. Don't you worry."_

_Quinn laughed quietly. "I can't wait."_

"_Yes. Neither can I! I hope you have a wonderful rest of your evening, Quinn and I'll see you Friday evening at BreadstiX. 7p.m. sharp."_

"_7 p.m. sharp," Quinn repeated._

"_Quinn?"_

_Quinn froze. "Yes?"_

"_I'm so glad you called."_

"_So am I," Quinn admitted, relaxing again. _

"_Goodbye, Quinn." _

"_Bye, Rachel." Quinn took the phone away from the side of her face and watched the call end before she slowly stood up and walked back into her room. Right before she turned to walk through the door, she stopped and leaned against the wall, inhaled and exhaled slowly and smiled to herself. She did it. She'd talked to Rachel and asked her what she'd intended and it hadn't gone wrong. Well, not completely wrong. _

_But they were going to dinner. _

_It was a rocky start, but it was successful nonetheless._

_Dinner._

_For two._

_Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray._

_Quinn Fabray was going to dinner with Rachel Berry. _

_On. A. _Date_._

_After a few moments Quinn pushed off and walked through the door to find Santana lying down on the left side of her bed, with her right arm thrown over her face. Quinn quietly walked over and lay down next to her, unable to contain her smile. Santana turned her head to face Quinn, not removing her arm. She moved it slightly so she was able to peer through. "Well, someone looks happy." She dropped it back down. "Thanks for leaving me out, bitch."_

_Quinn sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "You wouldn't have liked what you heard very much anyway, Santana. We got sappy."_

_Santana turned her head back up. "Oh god." _

_The two girls sat in silence for a few moments as Santana waited for Quinn to speak. When she said nothing, Santana asked, "So? What's the verdict?"_

_Quinn turned quickly onto her side, propping her head up with her left hand. "You and I can't hang out on Friday."_

"_Well, damn." Santana dropped the right side of her face to the pillow so she was looking at Quinn. "What am I supposed to do without you?"_

_Quinn laughed. "I find it funny that it's hard to tell if you're being sarcastic or not."_

"_I find it funny that…ugh," Santana grumbled, turning her face back towards the ceiling. "What else am I supposed to do?"_

_Quinn continued to laugh until Santana forcefully let her fist drop to Quinn's stomach. "Ow, you bitch," Quinn reacted, shooting a glare at Santana and shoving her hand away._

"_Well, don't laugh at me. I legit don't have anyone else, Q," Santana admitted. "You know I can't be around Brittany."_

"_You could always hang out with Karofsky," Quinn suggested._

_Santana stared at her for a moment. "Change the subject. Tell me about this phone call. Save me the gory details."_

"_I'll try my best," Quinn assured her. As she repeated the conversation for Santana, she made sure to skip over any unnecessary information, steering clear of anything Santana might make fun of, and made sure to recount exactly what she asked and what the responses were. When she was done, her face hurt from smiling, but she didn't care, because she was actually _happy_._

"_You asked her to dinner?" Santana asked, with a look of genuine surprise. She nodded her head slowly. "Good job, Fabray, I'm impressed."_

"_What?" Quinn laughed. "Did you not think I'd be able to do it?"_

"_No," Santana replied._

"_I didn't either, actually," Quinn responded, dropping her head onto her arm._

"_At least you aren't taking her mini golfing or something lame and super obvious like that," Santana commented._

_Quinn turned to Santana, looking at her oddly. "Uh, isn't that what you did with Brittany on your first date?"_

_An annoyed look appeared on Santana's face. "Yes, and it's been haunting me ever since."_

"_How?" Quinn asked, looking at her questioningly. "Brittany loves everything you do for her."_

"_Yes, Q. Thank you for reminding me," Santana responded sarcastically._

_Quinn sighed. "I'm sorry."_

"_Whatever," Santana said sharply. "Golfing even in mini form is a gay sport and that golf course smell made me lose prom queen."_

_Quinn scrunched her eyebrows together. "The fact that you didn't get enough votes made you lose prom queen…"_

"_Right back at ya, sweetie," Santana retorted._

"_Hey, prom ended up being a pretty great night, so make all the comments you want," Quinn replied, shrugging._

"_What was the best part?" Santana asked, a sarcastic tone still in her voice. "Slapping your girlfriend across the face?"_

"_I'll slap you across the face if you ever bring that up again," Quinn snapped back, glaring._

_A devious smile grew on Santana's face. "I think you'd enjoy that too much, Fabray."_

_Quinn elbowed Santana in the ribs._

"_Ow!" Santana exclaimed to which Quinn only shrugged. _

_Santana snickered as she rolled over to lay on her side, propping her head up with her right hand. "Oh, you know you would. Don't even pretend like you wouldn't," Santana continued, winking at Quinn. _

_Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her head. _

"_Listen. Berry makes you a nutcase, but we knew that before you even called her." Santana moved her hand up in a gesture to cut Quinn off before she could say anything. "I'm not done." She dropped her hand back down on her hip before continuing. "But you've gotten through this, and not that I could tell or anything because you took your damn phone call out of the room, but if she agreed, there's clearly something about you that she likes. And this takes us back to the original plan and getting rid of Finny should be easy." _

_Quinn looked at her confused. "Getting rid of him?" _

"_Yes, Q. We're going to tie him to Artie's wheelchair and roll them both into one of Puck's pools." She rolled her eyes. "We're going to have you spend as much time as possible with Berry so that she'll forget about the oaf, who is only ever going to hold her back, and hopefully, I don't know, realize she like, loves you too, or something like that."_

"_Santana Lopez, it's almost as if you care about her." Quinn playfully bumped shoulders against Santana._

"_Ugh. Don't say things like that. I kind of care about you, you love her. I guess she somehow gets cared about in some way." Santana paused. "And apparently, talking about Berry makes me sound like her." She raised an eyebrow at Quinn. "I'm a rambler now." _

_Quinn laughed lightly and smiled. "Her rambling is much cuter."_

"_That's gross," Santana replied, with a forced disgusted look on her face._

* * *

><p><em>"San, what am I supposed to do?" Quinn asked as she stood staring at the clothes hanging in Santana's closet. It was Friday, a little after one in the afternoon. She had finally planned every detail of that night. It was all in place, and it seemed so far everything was running smoothly. This was the first time she and Rachel were ever going to hang out at friends. One day, Rachel would know that to Quinn, this was like their first "date", and everything about tonight would matter. Rachel would always remember the little things, and Quinn wanted it all to be perfect. <em>

"_I don't get why this is such a big deal to you," Santana said as she rolled her eyes, not looking up from the magazine she was reading as she laid on her bed. "She's dating Finndla for god's sake. I bet he hasn't put 10% of the thought into his entire relationship with Berry than you have about your _outfit_."_

_Quinn took a deep breath before answering and sighed. "You can call her Rachel, you know. It's not that hard."_

_Santana still didn't look up, but she did lift her fingers to snap at Quinn. "Hurry up. Pick something. No time for your commentary about what I call your girlfriend."_

"_Santana…" she sighed. "I have been standing here for god knows how long. There is nothing in here I can wear. She will hate it all."_

_Santana's head shot up. "I've seen Berry check me out more than once, Fabray. There is nothing about those clothes that she will hate."_

_Quinn sifted through a few of the hangers as she answered. "She will hate them on me."_

"_What is the problem with your clothes again?" Santana asked, clearly not bothering to try to sound interested._

_Quinn turned around to her. "I told you I couldn't find anything."_

"_You could wear a potato sack and she would still think you were-" Santana cleared her throat. "-'the prettiest girl she'd ever met'," Santana finished her sentence in an unsuccessful impersonation of Rachel._

_Quinn turned back around to the closet, reached in and grabbed six shirts and threw them at Santana. "Don't do that! Don't mock her. Don't make fun of the things I've told you about her. You may put up a bitch front with everyone else, but don't do it with me. At least not when it comes to her." _

"_Damn, Q," Santana finally responded, as she piled the clothes next to her. She watched as Quinn went for more shirts. "Stop! Stop. You throw any more of my clothes at me, I swear."_

_Quinn let go of the clothes and waved her off as she walked over to her purse without saying anything._

"_What are you doing?" Santana asked as she stood to hang up her shirts._

_Quinn shrugged as she pulled out her phone and found the contact she wanted. "Calling our fellow gay."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This one is for everyone at FaberryCon . :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Some things you should know! But I'll make it brief, because I am not fond of Author's Notes in the slightest:  
>1. This is completely canon up to the end of SEASON TWO. Any information from season three is irrelevant.<br>2. There are roughly 19 more chapters planned out and I'd say about half of that is already written, though that means nothing because I rewrite everything three times before I post it, and what's written is not in order or all together, which is both annoying and MY ISSUE.  
>3. I make no promises when the next update will be. Because of every chapter I have, it is one of three with nothing written, and isn't completely planned out, AND you see how long this one took me, so.<br>4. This chapter is longer…so… Happy reading! :)**

* * *

><p><em>Santana nodded as she stood at her closet, hanging up one of the shirts that had just been thrown at her. "And you're okay with him knowing? About you?" she asked, not turning around.<em>

_Quinn looked towards Santana, not stopping her pacing as she put her hand over the bottom of the phone, whispering, "What is it you called me? A pressed lemon?" Quinn rolled her eyes when she heard Santana snicker. "If you can tell, Kurt can, too, right?"_

_"I can tell what?"_

_Quinn jumped at the voice coming from the phone. "Oh my god, Kurt. You scared me."_

_"Well, Quinn Fabray, you are the one who called me, so I do believe if anyone is scared here, it should be me." _

_"What would you be scared of?" Quinn asked curiously, walking back towards Santana's bed to go sit down. Realization hit her as she reached the foot of the bed. "Oh, you meant scared of me."_

_"Don't be afraid of her, Hummel. She's harmless," Santana dragged out the last word as she hung up her last shirt._

_"Firstly, hello, Santana. Secondly, I certainly did not mean I was scared of you. I'm not afraid of you, Quinn. I was referring to the reason you called! Because you never do." He gasped. "Oh god. You're not pregnant again, are you?"_

_"What?!" Quinn exclaimed, sitting down at the foot of the bed. She bent over with her head in her hand. "No! Kurt. Please."_

_"I was just asking."_

_"There will be no more pregnancy scares. You can be assured of that." Quinn said as she sat up, looking over to Santana who quickly covered her mouth to contain her laughter as she made her way over, sitting back against the pillows at the top of her bed. Quinn grabbed one of the magazines beside her and threw it at Santana, completely missing. Turning her attention back to Kurt, she continued, "No. I was wondering if maybe you were still up for that makeover you offered me sophomore year, actually."_

_"I see." He paused. "And of course, I am always up for a makeover. When is it that my services are required?"_

_She scrunched her eyebrows together, hoping for the best before asking, "Now?"_

_"And where are you?"_

_"Santana's," she answered, shrugging as Santana raised an eyebrow at the use of her name._

_"Hmm…I'll meet you at your house in ten then."_

_"But I can't wear anything of mine," she replied quickly._

_"Quinn Fabray, if it's put together by me, you can wear anything. Ten minutes. Don't be late." And with that, hung up the phone._

_"Come on Santana, we have to go to my house," Quinn said as she walked down to the foot of the bed and picked up her purse, thinking for a moment before continuing, a sneaky smile forming on her face, as she turned back to look at Santana. "Apparently all of your clothes are too…golf course-y."_

_Santana jerked her head towards her. "What?"_

_"What?" Quinn asked, smiling innocently, as she stood up, purse in hand._

_Santana raised an eyebrow at her. "My clothes are too golf course-y?"_

_"Oh, that was nothing." Quinn waved her off. "Come on, S."_

_As Quinn began walking towards the door, pulling her car keys out of her purse on the way, Santana jumped up off the bed to catch up. "What do you mean by my clothes being too golf course-y?"_

_Quinn was already ten feet ahead of her, laughing lightly to herself. "It's nothing, Santana."_

* * *

><p><em>Kurt was leaning up against his car, arms folded across his chest, watching as Quinn and Santana got out of the car. "You're late."<em>

_"I know, I know!" Quinn said as she shut the driver's side door. "It's Santana's fault."_

_"My fault? My fault?" Santana asked as she walked around the car. _

_"Yes, yours," Quinn replied. She turned to Kurt who had walked over and was now standing next to her. "She made me go the long way to avoid the golf course." _

_Kurt looked around Quinn to stare oddly at Santana, but didn't say anything before looking back to Quinn. "Well, come on." He gestured for Quinn to lead the way._

_Quinn began walking towards the front door, fiddling with her keys as Kurt, then Santana followed. As she approached the door and unlocked it, she asked, "So how is Blaine?"_

_"He's great! He and Puckerman are playing Call of Duty with Finn," he answered as he watched Quinn open the door and walk through, following her. "I should thank you for saving me from enduring another afternoon of that. Completely surprises me Blaine would enjoy that madness."_

_"Right? He seems like more of a PGA Tour kind of guy," Santana commented as she walked through and closed the front door to the Fabray residence. _

_Quinn chuckled as began walking up the stairs. "You would know."_

_"Okay, enough with the golf jokes," Santana snapped as she started up the stairs behind Kurt. "Frankly, they aren't funny."_

_"Oh, I think they are hilarious," Quinn laughed as she walked into her room._

_"Well, what is so funny?" Kurt asked finally, frustrated, as he walked through Quinn's bedroom door and set his satchel down. "I'm tired of being out of the loop. If I'm not the butt of the joke, I'd at least like to be in on it."_

_"Well, apparently all of my clothes are two golf course-y, Hummel. Or did you not think Q would relay your insult to me?" Santana snapped as she walked through the door._

_Kurt turned to her and crossed his arms. "My insult? I'm not sure what you're talking about."_

_Quinn rolled her eyes as she fell onto her bed. She sprawled out, with her arms above her head, closed her eyes, and sighed. "I give up. I'm a bad gay. I'm kicking myself out of The Gay Brigade."_

_"I'm sorry, but The Gay Brigade?" Santana asked mockingly, as she walked over to the bed and sat down next to Quinn, who was reaching for a pillow to put over her face._

_Kurt stared at Quinn oddly, shaking his head. "You are as bad as Rachel. This reminds me of her suggestion for The GayLesBall sophom-"_

_"Okay, what the hell is The GayLesBall? But first," She held up a finger to Kurt, who was about to interrupt her. "How are you a bad gay?" she asked, reaching to pull the pillow away._

_Quinn's grip only grew tighter as she mumbled through the pillow. "Beguzz Iv gen crying ta bake hay yokes fa za yast den bonnets and ooh ham days art hitting them."_

_"I thought Rachel was a vegan. How are you going to bake her a ham if she's a vegan?" Santana asked as she finally yanked the pillow away from Quinn's face._

_"Give me that," Quinn said as she took the pillow back and sat it on her lap. "I said, 'Because I've been trying to make gay jokes for the last ten minutes and you damn gays aren't getting them.'"_

_"Oh," Kurt responded, attempting to remove himself from the conversation as he walked towards the closet._

_After a few moments of silence, Santana burst into laughter._

_Quinn rolled her eyes and flopped back onto the bed again. "Ugh."_

_"So," Kurt said as he began flipping through things in Quinn's closet. "Let's move away from this conversation. What am I dressing you for?"_

_Santana immediately stopped laughing. "She's got a date."_

_Quinn sighed forcefully, and put her hands over her eyes. "It's not a date, Santana."_

_"Don't play that with me, Q." She grabbed the pillow from Quinn's lap and hit her in the face with it. "You've called it a date since you made the plans."_

_As Quinn sat up and tried to retrieve the pillow back from Santana, who kept snatching it away from her, Kurt asked, "What is this date's name?"_

_Quinn stopped her movements long enough to mumble something inaudible. _

_Santana also stopped her movements, and loudly asked, "What was that? I couldn't hear you. Don't think Hummel could either."_

_"What's her name, Quinn?" Kurt pushed, leaning out of the closet to look at her._

_Quinn sighed. "Kurt, if I tell you, you can't say anything. Not to Mercedes, not to anyone. Especially Mercedes, actually."_

_"I cross my heart, and swear on my nicest Alexander McQueen." Kurt made an X over his heart with his right index finger and smiled._

_Quinn narrowed her eyes at Kurt before responding. "How about we talk about your lack of reaction to the new information you've learned today instead?"_

_Kurt turned back into the closet midsentence, pulling out a white blazer. "What new information?"_

_Santana stood up, rolling her eyes. Turning to Quinn before she walked out the door, she said, "He better know by the time I get back."_

_Quinn waved her off dismissively before returning her attention back to Kurt. "'What new information?' Kurt, you can't be serious." She shook her head at the blazer he was handing her._

_He paused before taking it back and turning back to the closet. He hung it up before he responded, pulling out a coral sweater. "The fact that you are more lesbigay than an early Ellen DeGeneres is not new information, my dear Quinn. I've been waiting for you to let the cat out of the bag." He took a sharp breath in and peeked around to look at Quinn. "Please don't attempt to make any lesbian cat jokes. As a gay male, I will not find the humor."_

_"Lesbian cat jokes?" Quinn asked, confused. _

_"Don't worry about it," Kurt said, turning back to replace the coral sweater with a bright red one. "Should I ask for details of this 'new information' or should I just ask who the special girl you are so concerned about impressing whom you are not taking on a date is?"_

_"I'm not concerned about impressing her. Well, not exactly," Quinn replied, looking down at her hands in her lap. "It's not as if it's her first time seeing me. But it's the first time I'm trying, too, you know?" She moved her hands so they were on either side of her and she sat up straighter. "She always chases me, and now it's my turn to chase after her." _

_Kurt nodded and turned around, putting his hands on his hips._

_Quinn looked up at him and gave him a soft smile. "I've stopped running…I have. But that's not enough." She took a deep breath, and blinked slowly before focusing hard on Kurt. "If Rachel is going to believe that I'm serious, I'm going to have to try really hard and that means I need everything to be as perfect as it can possibly be."_

_Kurt could hardly contain his smile as he walked forward and leaned down to wrap his arms around Quinn. She returned the hug and squeezed him tightly. After a few moments, Kurt stood back up straight, and sighed. "Can I let you in on a little secret?"_

_Quinn nodded, smiling._

_"This is not new information either," Kurt admitted._

_Quinn's smile dropped as she put her head in her hands. "Of course it isn't." She let out a loud and forced sigh as she picked her head back up. "How many people do you think know?"_

_"About which part?" he asked, turning once again back to the closet. "I'd venture to say the only the ones who know about you being gay are the actual gays. Meaning, Santana, Brittany, Blaine, and myself."_

_Quinn slowly nodded. "And Karofsky. He knows, too."_

_Kurt stopped what he was doing for a moment. "Is that so? I would have named him as well, but I wasn't aware David's preferences were common knowledge."_

_"Oh, they aren't. But he and Santana have gotten closer, which is very odd." She scrunched her eyebrows together. "And Santana and I really have no secrets anymore."_

_"Is that why you're so comfortable with all of this? Because you seem very comfortable with it, Quinn." He pulled out a beige blazer to which Quinn shook her head in response. "I would have never thought you'd be so…flippant about it all."_

_"I do seem that way, don't I?" Quinn agreed. "Nervousness is like drunkenness to me. Verbal vomit and all that." She stood up and walked over to sit at her vanity. "But other than that, Santana has been over-exposing me to all things rainbows and unicorns, as Brittany would, and does, say." She smiled as she began fiddling with her hair. "She has been a really good friend through everything. She had to deal with this all on her own, and she didn't want that for me. So, she puts up with my failed attempts at gay jokes, and she listens to my fears about Rachel, and she understands me when even I don't know what the hell I'm talking about."_

_"If only we all got to see this side of Santana," Kurt commented._

_Quinn looked at Kurt through her mirror and smirked. "If everyone got to see that side of Santana, she wouldn't be Santana."_

_"Touché," Kurt replied._

_"But anyway, she just wants me to be as comfortable as possible before my inevitable denial comes back," she said as she combed her fingers through her hair in the back._

_Kurt walked over to the bed and sat down on Quinn's bed. "That is something you're good at, denial."_

_Quinn laughed, but not out of humor. She turned in the seat to face him. "You try being in love with someone you're supposed to hate, and you see how fast denial becomes your best friend."_

_Kurt nodded slowly in understanding. "In love with, hmm? It's that serious?"_

_"It is," she answered with a sad smile. "That's why I want it to be special." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "Because not only do I have to show her how much she's worth to me, I have to make up for all the wrong I've done to her."_

_"She's forgiven you, you know that," Kurt said. "So are you so concerned about this being perfect because of that, or is it because you haven't forgiven yourself?"_

_Quinn took a deep breath in and swallowed the tears that were about to form. "I'm doing this because she deserves the best, Kurt. I want to give that to her."_

_"Mhm," Kurt hummed._

_"Maybe I should wear pink…" she said after a few moments of collecting herself. She turned around to look at herself in the mirror. "That's her favorite color." She picked up her mascara, and opened it. "But I don't want it to be completely obvious that I'm dressing for her…" She began applying it as she continued. "I can't wear light pink because that's too Fabrayic… I could wear navy blue…since that's my favorite color… In a combination with the pink…" She switched eyes and thought for a moment. "I think I have a navy blue shirt, with light and bright pink peonies all over it…it has ruffles on the front. I have a pink sweater somewhere, too…" She closed the mascara and put it back as she stood up. "And a light beige skirt, it has ruffles on the bottom… Oh, and my navy blue pumps…" she said as she walked towards her closet. "With the ribbons that tie on the top," she finished as she bent down to pick up the shoes._

_As she stood up, she was face-to-face with Kurt, who held out three hangers to her. On them hanging the sweater, shirt, and skirt he found while Quinn was describing them. "It doesn't seem like you really needed much help."_

_"What?" she asked, her shoes in her right hand as she took the hangers with her left. "I wasn't… I didn't…"_

_"You just planned a perfectly coordinated-to-Rachel Berry outfit, Quinn," Kurt pointed out as he crossed his arms. "It seems to me that you don't really have to try very hard to be perfect when it comes to Rachel, Quinn." He watched Quinn turn around and lay the outfit down on the bed. "I'm pretty sure you already are."_

_Quinn whipped her head around to Kurt and there were tears quickly collecting in her eyes._

_Kurt sat down at the top of Quinn's bed, and gestured towards the clothes lying next to him. "Go on, get dressed! I won't look. I'll talk, you listen." _

_He turned his head to the wall to prove his point and after only a moment's hesitation, Quinn began to undress herself._

_Kurt crossed his left leg over his right, his hands clasped at his knee. "There will be no more crying allowed. There's no time for makeup retouches." He turned his head only slightly to raise an eyebrow at her._

_"Kurt!" Quinn exclaimed, trying and failing to cover herself with the dark grey shirt she'd just had on._

_"Quinn, please," Kurt scoffed. "You do nothing for me." _

_"It doesn't matter," Quinn retorted, stepping into the beige skirt. "I don't let anyone see me like this."_

_"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Kurt told her with sincerity. "But if you insist," he added, rolling his eyes as he turned away._

_"Thank you," she said as she brought the skirt up around her hips and reached behind herself to zip it. _

_Kurt looked down at Quinn's bedside table and picked up the dark brown wooden box sitting on it. "My step brother isn't the shiniest accessory in the jewelry box…" he said as he opened the lid carefully. "He can be selfish at times, and he makes mistakes, but I believe he means well, no matter what his actions say." He looked inside and picked out two pink rhinestone earrings, and closed the lid once more. "And I love him, I really do, but I don't love him with Rachel."_

_Quinn turned around to look at Kurt straight on as she buttoned the second to the top button on her shirt. She didn't say anything, only waited for him to continue._

_Kurt looked back at Quinn after setting the box back down. "Rachel is one of my best friends. She is high maintenance like no one I have ever known. She moves in everything she does at the speed of light and slows down for nothing. Finn will never understand what it takes to be with a girl like Rachel… And I don't think it's something he can learn. That's not his fault, and it's not hers either." He shrugged. "They are just two different people and there is too much change that would need to happen for them to be compatible."_

_"She changes when she's with him," Quinn said quietly._

_"Yes, she does," Kurt agreed. "And there are a few reasons for that. Some she is aware of and some she isn't. I want to tell you something, but I'm sure you already know."_

_"What?" she asked, holding out her hand for the earrings Kurt still held in his._

_He reached out and dropped them into Quinn's palm. "She doesn't think anyone will ever love her better than Finn does."_

_Quinn froze midway between putting on the left earring. She resumed what she was doing after a few moments and then moved to the right one._

_Kurt stood and picked up the sweater as Quinn fixed the ruffles on her shirt. He took it off the hanger and held it out for Quinn to put on. As she put her arm through the second side, he finally said, "But you're going to prove her wrong."_

_Quinn turned to face directly towards him, her hands on either one of his arms. "Yes, I am," she said as she pulled him into a hug, smiling widely. _

_"Really?" Santana questioned as she walked through the door with a handful of rainbow-colored Goldfish. "I go do a nice thing by hiding all the alcohol in case anything goes wrong tonight, and I come back to this?"_

_Quinn turned around quickly, her skirt twirling when she did. She lifted her hands slightly on both sides and then dropped them again as she smiled. "Shut up, Santana. How do I look?"_

_Santana looked her up and down a few times before seeing the smile on Quinn's face and smiling back. "Good, Fabray. You look good."_

_"Thank you," Quinn said sincerely. "I know how much you prefer me in jeans." She winked at her playfully before turning around to examine herself again in the mirror._

_Santana popped a few goldfish in her mouth before responding, making her way to sit on Quinn's bed. "This is true."_

_Kurt looked back and forth between the two girls, clearing his throat, choosing to not bother asking. "So, since I missed out on a makeover here, I thoroughly expect you to let me give one to Rachel when you two become…closer."_

_"Rachel doesn't need a makeover," Quinn said simply, not looking away from her hair, which she'd just made sit the way she wanted. She picked up a thin navy blue headband and put it on._

_"Well, clearly I was wrong in my assessment before," Santana stated, leaning back onto her elbows on the bed, watching Quinn in the mirror. "Berry actually dresses like the fantasy of an insane, blonde, teenage closet lesbian with a very dark specific fetish."_

_Quinn whipped her head around to glare at Santana. "Rude. I am not insane."_

_"Quinnsane Fabray, oh yes, you are," Santana laughed._

_Quinn rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror, fixing her headband unnecessarily. "Oh, here we go with the names again."_

_"Can I just point out that the only part of that sentence that she denied was about her being insane?" Kurt asked, cutting in as he started to sit down at the foot of Quinn's bed._

_"That's because it is actually the least of her dark specific fetishes," Santana explained as she moved her feet out of the way for Kurt to sit down._

_"Oh, really?" Kurt asked inquisitively. "Do tell."_

_Before Quinn could stop her, Santana nonchalantly answered. "Girls in football uniforms really do it for her."_

_"Santana!" Quinn halfway shrieked._

_She just shrugged._

_"Quinn Fabray, that is nothing," he reassured her. "I'm actually a bit more concerned about your attraction to Rachel's everyday… 'fashion' than anything."_

_"There is nothing wrong with her everyday fashion," Quinn stated forcefully._

_"Well, then you make sure to report back to us exactly what her outfit of choice was this evening," Kurt replied after a few moments, and Santana nodded her head in agreement._

* * *

><p><em>Honestly, Rachel's outfit was the least of Quinn's concerns as she sat in the booth waiting for the other half of the "date" to arrive. <em>

_Who cares about what color knee socks Rachel's wearing when bitchy!Quinn could possibly make an appearance?_

_Who bothers thinking about what animal is going to be on Rachel's sweater when Quinn might not build up enough nerve to even apologize?_

_Who wonders how short her skirt might be when Rachel might not even forgive you?_

_To say she was nervous was probably the understatement of the year._

_After Quinn's beginning of summer breakdown, she and Santana had come up with a plan. Making amends was first and foremost. If she didn't get past this, the rest didn't even matter. It's not as if she could go from supposedly being enemies with Rachel to telling her, "Oh, by the way, I've been in love with you since the moment I locked eyes with you after we ran into each other on the first day of school."_

_No, no, no, no, no._

_Going over the (potentially unnecessary) plan was absolutely not helping, so instead, she opted for the next choice and resorted to making a mental checklist of all of the things that could go wrong tonight. (Obviously, she was not talented at handling stress.) It probably wasn't the best idea, but she had to do something to keep from locking herself in the BreadstiX bathroom. She could only straighten the menus and rearrange the sugar and sweetener packets so many times. (No, she had not been there thirty minutes early.) No matter how she tried to distract herself, all her mind kept bringing her back to were all the ways trying to fix things could potentially blow up in her face. She was probably four and a half seconds away from hiding herself under the-_

_"Quinn."_

_She was suddenly pulled away from her thoughts by the normally comforting voice she knew all too well. When Quinn quickly turned to face the girl the voice belonged to, she was met with a familiar beaming smile, and shining brown eyes. _

_"Rachel," she breathed out softly, unable to contain the smile on her face._

_"7p.m. sharp?" Rachel laughed, clearly nervous herself._

_Quinn nodded a bit too eagerly. "Yes. Please, sit." She gestured toward the other side of the booth._

_Rachel ducked her head slightly and slid into the booth until she was directly across from Quinn. She pulled her purse off her shoulder and set it beside her. "Thank you so much."_

_"Thank you for agreeing to dinner," Quinn replied, smiling sweetly at her._

_"But of course! I could never have turned you down, Quinn. I certainly hope you know that," Rachel answered as she opened up her menu, never taking her eyes off Quinn. She looked down at the menu on the table as she pondered for a moment before looking back up to Quinn again. "You didn't think I would have declined, did you?"_

_Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked from one side of Rachel to the other before finally settling on Rachel's eyes. "I wasn't sure, actually."_

_A flash of hurt crossed Rachel's face before it disappeared just as quickly as it came. "Well, I suppose it's all right. You really don't know me well enough to know what my reaction would have-" _

_Quinn stayed silent for a few moments, again unable to look at Rachel until she finally forced herself to. "I've done a lot of terrible things to you."_

_Rachel contemplated for a moment before responding. "I'm not going to pretend like you haven't, Quinn. But our peers have done some of the same things to me, some even-"_

_"I'm so, so sorry, Rachel," Quinn choked out, unable to contain herself. She forcefully sat back, dropping her hands in her lap, and looked over to her left, focusing on where the booth was connected to the wall as she felt the tears starting to spill over. She heard rustling on Rachel's side of the table and then nothing, only the sounds of the happenings of the restaurant around her. She couldn't bring herself to look up and see Rachel gone, so she instead sat and let the tears fall. She was in the middle of BreadstiX crying, and yet she didn't care. She was lost in her thoughts of Rachel and how she hadn't lasted a minute and a half with her. Suddenly, she felt the seat beside her dip down, and her breath hitched in her throat when she felt a tiny, warm hand on her arm. She slowly turned her head away from the wall to look at the tan skin against hers, taking in the small, manicured yet unpolished fingers wrapped right above her wrist. She watched as Rachel began rubbing small circles with her thumb, goosebumps forming on her skin from the sensation. Her embarrassment of the reaction to such a small touch is ultimately what made her look up._

_As soon as she could see it, Rachel's eyes quickly scanned over Quinn's face. Rachel smiled at her, as she picked up her other hand, showing Quinn that she was holding tissues. "I figured you might need these?" _

_Quinn forced a small laugh as she held her hand out for the tissues. "Thank you."_

_Rachel let her now free hand fall to the table while her other hand stayed on Quinn's arm as she looked away from Quinn to give her a small amount of privacy while she lightly dabbed at her face. "I normally keep tissues in my purse, but I used the rest of them when I lost myself in a Celine Dion song this morning during my vocal lesson. I've told Mrs. Tomlinson time and time again to stop using the tissue boxes I have at her house for her cat allergies. Those are property of Rachel Berry and are not to be used because she decides to live with seven cats when she's allergic to them. I tell her over and over, just get rid of your overabundance of cats, and you wouldn't have this allergy issue, and therefore wouldn't have a need to use my tissues and force me to use my travel pack of tissues. I have that for emergencies. I-"_

_Quinn tilted her head just enough to see Rachel out of the corner of her eye and smiled at her, making the girl pause and return the smile. "Thank you, Rachel." She turned her head back forward, took a deep breath through her nose and blew out through her mouth before continuing. "And I'm sorry for my…sudden outburst."_

_"Please, Quinn, do not apologize. Actually, if you could learn to be able to access that emotion at the drop of a hat, you could make an amazing actress." Rachel laughed lightly at herself. "Not that I'm sure you aren't already. You are incredibly talented in many areas."_

_Quinn continued to look at the table, where her eyes had landed in the middle of her apology a few seconds prior. "Not this one."_

_Rachel looked at her puzzled. "I'm not sure what you mean."_

_"I don't know what I'm doing," Quinn sighed, now looking down at her hands in her lap. "This isn't how it was supposed to go. I don't really know how it was supposed to go, actually. But I suppose it could have gone worse." She looked up to meet Rachel's eyes. "I know- I know that a simple dinner and 'I'm sorry.' is not going to fix everything. I know that. But I just need you to know that I really am sorry, and I would do anything to make it up to you."_

_"Good evening, ladies. Welcome to BreadstiX."_

_Quinn's attention snapped up to an oblivious, twenty-something waitress, who had just walked up to their table. She glared at her. "Are you serious?"_

_The waitress only raised an eyebrow in response._

_Quinn inhaled sharply. "I know you don't think you can pull that off better than-"_

_"What- what my friend means is," Rachel said, cutting her off, "It's sort of a bad time, and while you're only doing your job, we would appreciate a few minutes, if you don't mind. Oh!" She flashed her a wide smile. "But we will take a peach iced tea, and a strawberry lemonade."_

_The waitress rolled her eyes and turned to walk away as Quinn leaned forward to put her elbows on the table and hold her head in her hands. "She's probably going to spit in both of those." _

_"I would say that assessment is most likely correct," Rachel agreed, nodding, even though Quinn wasn't looking to see her. "Do you think maybe I should follow her to ensure our beverages remain untainted by her bodily fluids?"_

_Quinn's head popped up as she laughed. "That sounded really gross."_

_"Another person's saliva in my peach iced tea is very gross, Quinn!" Rachel retorted. _

_"Okay, okay," Quinn laughed._

_With a huff and a roll of her eyes, Rachel slid out of the booth to follow the waitress. Quinn reached in her purse for her phone, looking after Rachel to make sure she was going to be gone for enough time. She opened her text messages to Santana. _

_**I. Made. A. Fool. Of. Myself.**_

_There was a response almost immediately._

_**Of course you did.**_

_Quinn rolled her eyes, throwing her phone back into her purse. She saw it light up with another message._

_**1 New Message from:**_

_**Satan Lopez**_

_She laughed at the autocorrect she never bothered to change and proceeded to open the message._

_**What did I say about texting me during your date, Q?**_

_She fought the urge to roll her eyes again as she threw her phone in her purse again. It lit up once more._

_**1 New Message from:**_

_**Kurt Hummel**_

_Really?_

_**Make sure you snap a photo of your future wife's outfit for me, Quinn!**_

_She didn't bother stopping herself as she rolled her eyes and shoved her phone in her purse, face down. _

_Not a minute later, Rachel came back, holding both drinks in her hands. Quinn looked at her questioningly. _

_"Oh, I spoke to the manager and requested another waitress. And retrieved these," nodding towards the glasses she was now setting down, "while he went to look for one." She put her hands on her hips and flashed Quinn a bright smile._

_"You're- I-" Quinn finally settled on, "Thank you."_

_"I couldn't very well risk catching some sort of disease," Rachel responded, waving her off as she sat down in the booth across from Quinn. "What if something happened to my throat? Do you recall my bout of laryngitis our sophomore year? I spent seven weeks trying to figure out where that was contracted so I could avoid the germ-ridden place origin. Daddy finally had to put a lock on the 'Berry Activities' filing cabinet. Quinn, I cannot afford another seven weeks of extra work for myself at this point in my pre-Broadway career." Rachel finally took a breath. She looked as if she was about to have a panic attack._

_"Whoa there," Quinn said, laughing a bit. "You took care of it, so there's nothing to worry about. And look at it this way; at least you'd know where the 'germ-ridden place origin' would have been this time." She smiled trying to keep herself from laughing more._

_"This is not a laughing matter, Quinn," Rachel responded sternly. "My future on Broadway is not a joke in any way, shape, or form."_

_Quinn looked at the not only annoyed, but slightly hurt look on Rachel's face. "I know it's not. I'd never laugh at your dream, Rachel."_

_"Why not? Everybody else does," Rachel stated quietly, not looking away._

_The sadness in Rachel's eyes was almost too much to take. Quinn didn't know how she was ever supposed to make this up to her. "Rachel, I- I know you have no reason to trust me or what I'm saying, or any of it, but I have never not believed in you." She took a deep breath and fought from looking away as she continued. "I know it may not have seemed that way when I spent so long acting exactly opposite, and I will never stop being sorry for that, but if anyone is going to make it out of Lima and do what she was made to do, it's you. There is nothing I believe more than that, and it's not something I'd ever laugh at."_

_Rachel sat and stared at Quinn for going on twelve seconds (Quinn knows, she counted) before she spoke. "You keep rendering me speechless." She laughed. _

_Quinn joined her. _

* * *

><p><em>"I can't believe she ignored my request."<em>

_"Hummel, you probably freaked her out when you called Berry her wife," Santana pointed out, as she paused the trash TV they were currently watching, sensing this wasn't a one statement and done conversation._

_Kurt huffed as he stuck his nose in the air. "It's harmless."_

_Santana rolled her eyes. "Not to Q." When Kurt looked at her questioningly, she continued. "All of that incessant Berry-like talking she did with you before she left? Her nervousness? Does that seem very Quinn Fabray to you?"_

_"She mentioned-" Kurt began before he was cut off._

_"No, she didn't. She's not aware of it," Santana said sharply. "She overthinks. It's one thing to talk about Berry in the present, but Berry in the future is a flashing hot pink neon sign of 'NO!"_

_"I'm not sure I'm following," Kurt said, looking at her tentatively._

_"If you put the image of Berry in a white dress in that girl's head, you may as well light the plan on fire and throw your accelerant of choice on it," she explained further._

_Kurt shook his head. "I'm still not seeing your point, Santana."_

_"You've been hanging around your step-idiot too much," Santana groaned. "Do you not recall why she called you in the first place? An outfit, Hummel. A friggin outfit. That is the damn cherry on top of the Quinn Fabray lesbian sundae I've had to deal with all week."_

_"Don't you mean 'Berry' on top?" Kurt chuckled._

* * *

><p><em>Quinn looked down at her drink for the first time since Rachel brought it back. She didn't look up from what she saw when she spoke. "Rachel, there are two straws in this glass."<em>

_Rachel, being in the process of taking a sip from her own drink, nearly choked and quickly set down the glass before responding. "You do prefer two straws, do you not?"_

_Quinn looked at her puzzled. "I do." She thought for a moment before continuing. "But how did you know that?"_

_"I- I just pay attention to detail," Rachel said quickly. "I find it is a great quality to have as a friend. I'm sure it isn't actually typical friend-like behavior, but it is Rachel Berry friend-like behavior. I know a lot of preferences about many people, if it helps. None as much as you. But I- it's nothing, because I'm sure everyone knows everything about y-"_

_"That's actually not true," Quinn responded, cutting her off, twirling her straws around in her glass. "People think they know everything about me, but they don't really know much of anything."_

_Rachel hastily shook her head. "I didn't mean-"_

_"No, no! I wasn't referring to you, Rachel," Quinn corrected. "I have no doubts that you most likely know me better than anyone." She sighed. "More than you actually even think you know me. But the thing is, I don't let people get to know me, and I didn't want you of all people to."_

_"Me of all people?" Rachel questioned._

_"It's not what it sounds like." Quinn frowned at herself. "One day, I'll be able to explain it to you. I promise I will. Again, you have no reason to trust that promise, or when I say that it's not what it sounds like, but-"_

_"You'll tell me one day," Rachel encouraged. "Whenever it is that you find you're able to. And I'll be waiting, Quinn. No matter how long it takes."_

_Quinn gave her a small smile. "Thank you."_

_"I find patience is also a good friend-like quality to have," Rachel explained. "Though it may not seem like I have much of it… It all depends on the situation, really. For instance, should someone sing a piece slightly sharp, or heaven forbid, flat, that is undeniably unacceptable and must be fixed immediately. But, should someone say, be making great strides in trying to be the infinitely wonderful person I know she can be, well, that- that is where I can be exceedingly patient. Like no Rachel Berry you've ever seen." She finished the sentence with a bright smile and a wink. _

* * *

><p><em>"Thanks for hanging out with me tonight, Hummel," Santana said as she walked Kurt to the front door of the Fabray residence.<em>

_Kurt reached the door and put his hand on the doorknob before turning around and smiling. "Of course, Santana. You're not half bad," he complimented, playfully elbowing Santana._

_"Watch it," she teased, as he opened the door to let himself out. "Hey, you never did say what that thing Berry came up with was."_

_"It's The GayLesbAll, and it stands for 'gay and lesbian alliance'," he answered, clarifying. "And now that I think about it, nowhere does it say anything about it being a straight alliance. So maybe Quinn has a better chance than we thought."_

_Santana shook her head. "Oh, that doesn't matter. The GayLesbAll and The Gay Brigade? How do you even come up with that? Clearly, they're made for each other."_

_Kurt laughed. "Speaking of made for each other, I forgot to ask. How are you and Brittany?"_

_"Nope!" Santana answered, with a firm shake of her head. "Out!"_

* * *

><p><em>"If you insist, then I will drop it," Rachel said as she walked through the door Quinn was holding open for her. "But I insist that you allow me to pay for our next outing."<em>

_"Our next outing?" Quinn asked, letting the door go and turning to face Rachel where she'd stopped to wait, raising a teasing eyebrow at her._

_Rachel froze momentarily. "Well, if this was a onetime occurrence, I suppose that's fine. I was under the impression we had a lovely evening. At least I did. You seemed to be having a nice time as well, from what I could tell. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous of me to-"_

_"Rachel…" Quinn drawled out._

_"Yes?" Rachel asked._

_Quinn smiled at her. "I had a wonderful time, and another outing sounds fun."_

_"Oh," Rachel laughed. "I really had a delightful time tonight, Quinn. I'm glad we could do this. Getting to know the real you, and not just the you I'd thought up in my head, it was…very nice."_

_"How do I compare to the Quinn in your head?" she asked._

_Rachel thought for a moment. "Well, I couldn't tell you exactly. I'm quite sure no one could be talented enough to make up exactly who you are in her head. But I will say, you are much more than I could have ever imagined."_

_Quinn looked at her nervously. "Is that a good thing?"_

_Rachel blushed and tilted her head down so she had to look up at Quinn through her eyelashes before softly replying, "It's a very good thing."_

_Quinn smiled at her, fighting the urge to kiss her right there. "Can I walk you to your car?"_

_Rachel didn't hesitate in her response. "Sure, I'd like that very much."_

_They slowly walked in silence, Quinn staring ahead, holding the handle of her purse firmly in front of her with both hands to keep from reaching over and taking Rachel's hand, and Rachel smiling to herself, glancing over at Quinn every few seconds. _

_When they got to the black SUV, Rachel turned to Quinn and smiled. "So, I was wondering, and feel free to say no. I will completely understand and there will be minimal hard feelings."_

_Quinn looked at Rachel curiously. "What is it?"_

_"Could we- could we maybe take a picture together?" Rachel asked, clearly nervous of what response her question may elicit. "I won't post it anywhere and I won't let anyone see it. No one even has to know it was taken. I don't want to make you uncomfortable at all or put you in a position where you'd have to explain anything. I'd just like…something to remember this night with you by."_

_Quinn looked at Rachel with tears in her eyes. One rolled down her cheek as she spoke. It was barely a whisper. "I really am so sorry, Rachel."_

_"It's fine, it's fine," she said quickly, trying to hide the slight trace of hurt in her voice. She shook her head. "It was silly of me to even ask such a req-"_

_"No!" Quinn yelled. She cleared her throat once. "No. That's not what I meant. I- I'm sorry that everything I've done has led you to fell that- I- I'm sorry."_

_"Oh, well, I already told you I forgive you! You don't have to keep apologizing to me," Rachel replied, smiling reassuredly. _

_"But I do," Quinn choked out. "You think I'm ashamed to be associated with you." She took a deep breath in and walked over to half sit on the back of the SUV. "And why wouldn't you? I've been terrible to you and now I all of a sudden want to be nice to you? I'd walk on eggshells, too."_

_Rachel studied Quinn for a moment before taking a seat beside her, leaving about a foot and a half between them. "I trust you, Quinn."_

_Quinn looked over to Rachel and tears flowed down her face._

_Rachel smiled at her in a way that was only reserved for Quinn in these moments between them. "This is something that's new to both of us, and it's more than normal that we're each going to say or do the wrong thing multiple times. But as long as we're both always trying, that's all we can ask of the other, right?"_

_"Right." Quinn forced a smile through the continued tears. "Rachel, I'm going to make this hard without meaning to. You're going to be thrown for loops on this rollercoaster with me, and you are never going to know what's coming. I can go from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds, and the twists and turns are unpredictable." Her face grew saddened. "Tonight is just the beginning."_

_Rachel didn't reply for a few moments as she smiled at Quinn. "Luckily I meet the height requirements for most rollercoasters now, so it shouldn't be a problem."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Too much gay or…? Y/Y?**

**A/N2: This one is for everyone at FaberryCon West. (Though half of you are writers and infinitely better than I am. :))**


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